A Twist of Faith
by Dawn Moon
Summary: Chapter 8 UP! My first fanfiction...2yrs after the end of the musical...Elaine is a bright light. Erik is deepest darkness. Their balance is true love.
1. New Lives

*Authoress' Note- It's quite simple...ALW and M. Leroux own the PotO characters, not me. Get it? NOT me! You will know my characters, believe me. Enjoy! P.S.-'x' are thoughts, kay? *  
  
--  
A Twist of Faith  
Chapter One: New Lives  
--  
  
A rush of December breeze ushered the small carriage along the shining roads. A pair of wide amber eyes gazed out of the window. It was a bright, crisp, perfect winter morning, and the pure snow still lay deep on the ground. The late morning sunlight cast a brilliant silver glow all over the broad piles and dips of cold whiteness. Down the center of Avenir Brillant, Paris was already awake and bustling about their business. They seemed to move to the rhythm of the cathedral's song, the deep sonorous tune of Notre Dame. 'Music, something the city and I have in common' the young passenger thought, smiling. She was ready for life in Paris.  
  
"Dantan," she called to the driver, "Could you please let me out here?"  
  
"Of course," Dantan replied grinning. It had been a while since he'd been called by his name by a passenger. Even longer, since he'd never conversed with a passenger either. This girl was genuinely kind and gave him a better view of his otherwise bleak day. Besides that she was lovely.  
  
The horses pulled to a stop along the side of the road. Dantan hurried around to her door to assist her. She took a step out, carrying two armfuls of bags and cases, and was a little surprised when he helped her out.  
  
"Oh, thank you."  
  
"No Elaine. Thank you for being so kind to old Dantan." He smiled and extended his weathered hand, which she gratefully shook firmly. "God bless you in all you do my dear."  
  
Elaine's eyes shone brightly and she smiled once more, "Thank you Dantan."  
  
She stayed a moment, waving as Dantan's carriage disappeared down the frosty streets. She took a deep breath of the cold air and pulled her scarlet cloak more tightly around her. She'd left her home in Province about two months ago. Her mother had died about a year before, and Papa had given her his blessing to live her life as she wanted. 'Mama's spirit will always guide you' he told her, perhaps to give her strength.  
  
Exhaling sharply, she pulled her cowl over her dark hair and walked briskly towards the Paris Opera House.  
  
--  
  
In a sort of anniversarial ritual, a single candelabra once again illuminated the thick darkness in his home, yet failed to cut through the darkness in his heart.   
  
'Two years...can it be that two long years have passed since...No Erik! Don't think of her! Don't!' his mind screamed at him. His gloved hand groped at the damp walls, steadying him in his misery.  
  
It had indeed been two years since the union of Raoul de Changy and a young singer named Daae, not a week after their rescue from the opera cellars; a rescue from the hatred of a captor, by the love of the captor.  
  
Yes, Erik had loved her with all his being. He was the one who shaped her voice, molded her from a fragile frightened child into a strong young woman able to make her own decisions. One of those was to rescue her fiancé from death, and her fallen Angel from hatred. And out of his love, Erik gave her back her freedom, knowing he would lose her forever. And so she left with Raoul, unwittingly taking a piece of his heart with her. About a month later, he'd read that the Changys had left for Switzerland to start over.  
  
Erik's eyes stung slightly with unshed tears, and he shook his head violently to clear it. 'She is lost to you, so get over it! You've been sulking about it like a simpering child in this black hole for two years! It ends NOW!'  
  
With a swift movement of his hand, he swept the tall candelabrum to the floor. It struck the stones hard, the flames extinguished. Yet, when it hit the ground, it produced a sharp metallic sound that reverberated into a somewhat musical tone. Erik listened intently, his ears weakly rejoicing in the small amount of music in that sound. Music, something that could express anything, that provided an answer for anything.  
  
He glanced down at his hand, where still glimmered the simple wedding band he offered her. The longer he watched its luster winking mockingly back at him, the more a painful weight pressed into his chest until he could no longer stand it. His eyes flared dangerously and he wrenched the ring off with a mad cry. He cast it onto the floor where it spun in a centripetal sphere. Not waiting, he brought his fine hard boot down upon it, stopping its motion with a loud slap. In finality, he kicked the smashed gold into the embers in the hearth. Settling himself in front of the fireplace, he stoked it into a great intensity, watching the remains of the ring melt in the flames, melt in his glare. 'Burn...burn away and never haunt me again.'  
  
When the molten gold had completely disappeared into the ashes, Erik groaned and stood up. He immediately felt different, something he couldn't find words for. He inhaled deeply, and was shocked. That was the first steady breath he'd taken for two years. The painful pressure deep inside him was gone completely. It felt exquisite. He hummed a few notes cautiously, and was surprised when none of them were out of tune. The corners of his mouth twitched and curled into a sly grin. If that was all he ever needed to do...unexpectedly he chuckled quietly. When he realized what he'd done, he laughed again, his volume rising as his old Opera Ghost spirits returned to him. Soon his rich laughter was echoing throughout the cellars. 'Have I gone insane?'  
  
"Au revoir, mam'selle Daae!" he shouted with mad glee, "The Phantom of the Opera is BACK!"  
  
  
--  
  
"Mon dieu. It's enormous," Elaine breathed, gazing at all of the splendor around her. She laughed quietly, but even that soft sound didn't escape the rich acoustics of the room. The sound of her laughter rolled around the great dips and curves of the auditorium, returning a hundred fold.  
  
She reached into one of her cases, producing a beautiful violin. Stroking it lovingly, she cradled it under her chin and drew the slender bow across the strings. She played a short melody that was no less sweet for its brevity. She stopped to listen to the music bounce off the walls and ceiling. She grinned. How she would enjoy herself in this place.  
  
If she only knew... 


	2. Fresh Start

Authoress' Note- I hate legal stuff, but here we go again...ALW and M. Leroux own the PotO characters, not me. Get it? NOT me! You will know my characters, believe me. Enjoy! P.S.-'x' are thoughts, 'kay?

EDIT: I noticed some mistakes in here, so I went ahead and revised it. A few new things here and there…Where's Waldo everyone! Just kidding.

--

A Twist of Faith  
Chapter Two: Fresh Start  
--

From his seat in Box 5, Erik let out a sigh of admiration and mild exhaustion. He had been prowling the halls when he heard the doors announce a new presence in his opera. He swiftly made his way to his box and saw the scarlet hooded figure turn about to see all around her.

He was utterly speechless, and breathless, after she unknowingly performed for him. The music she coaxed from that little instrument was irresistibly sweet. She obviously had been taking lessons, but she didn't play with the stoic uniform of most professionals. She played with liberty and fluid motion, as if savoring every note. Yet, she had stopped at the peak of the bar it seemed. Perhaps she'd faltered or was only testing the pitch. He wasn't quite sure, but something about her was definitely different. And Erik felt he would soon find out what that was.

--

"Next!" bellowed M. Reyer.

Elaine swallowed and slowly made her way to the center of the stage. She tried to look more confident, although she felt all eyes on her.

"Your name, mam'selle?" the repetituer asked with diminishing patience. He'd obviously seen his share of amateurs.

"Elaine Tourouse, m'sieur," she let her name roll cleanly off her tongue. He looked at her with some surprise.

"You say 'Tourouse'?"

"Yes."

"Err, yes, well, what piece will you be auditioning with?"

Elaine's eyes lit up and she grinned, "My piece is called 'Jacqueline'." she picked up her violin and looked at M. Reyer. He nodded in approval, secretly hoping she was who he thought she was.

--

_Damn, damn, run faster idiot!_

Erik's pulse pounded through him as he tore up the stone staircase that led up to his box. He'd completely forgotten about the auditions! Getting back into being the Opera Ghost wasn't very easy. With any luck, he just might catch the young violinist he'd seen the previous day.

His luck barely evaded him. She'd just finished the final strains of her piece as he arrived. A quick glance at Reyer told him what he wanted to know; the eccentric stage manager was nearly breathless.

"That...that was a very fine performance. Who... ahem, who composed that music, mam'selle?"

_No one has been able to make Reyer stutter in a long while,_ Erik mused.

"I did m'sieur," she said brightly and with a degree of pride. Erik's eyes widened. _No one has performed an original piece in a long time either._

"I...see. And your age?"

"I'll be twenty one next month." Erik almost choked. So did Reyer.

"P-pardon me please, mam'selle. Andre, Firmin, may I speak with you a moment?" Reyer motioned for the managers to come aside with him. Erik tried to get a look at the girl's face, but the shadows from the houselights prevented it. He exited his box to try to get closer without being seen. He arrived behind a pillar with a view of her back. 'Drat.' One positive point was that he was in the perfect place to hear the conversation between the three gentlemen.

"I tell you, she is just what we need," Reyer hissed with fierce determination.

"I agree she is extraordinary, but making her the lead violinist? I think it's a little too much Reyer. I mean she's brand new," Andre sputtered in his nervous way.

"She's actually someone though, not some nameless talent off the streets," he insisted.

"We have a lead violinist already," Firmin reminded him.

"Yes, and compared to her, he is nothing! Do you have any idea who she _is_?" Reyer whispered a little louder than he'd intended. Curious eyes glanced into the pit, murmurs rising from the wings. He cringed and glared at the managers, but they still had the final say. "All right. But she will replace him in time. You will see," he growled cryptically.

The small group broke apart and Reyer smiled raggedly at Elaine, who returned him a shining grin. "Mlle. Tourouse, thank you for your performance. It was indeed a treat. Results will be posted tomorrow."

"Thank you for your time, Messieurs," she said cheerfully and left the stage, and Erik got his first look at her. She nearly took his breath from his lungs. She was exquisite. The graceful curves of her face reminded him of a marble sculpture: an effigy to the goddess of beauty. There was a light spring in her step that made her glossy black hair seem so full. And her eyes were the most stunning shade of gold that the sun had never seen. She cradled the violin in her arms as if she feared it would break, and she was gazing at it so intently that she almost ran into Carlotta Guidicelli.

"Watch your step riffraff!" she shouted and tossed her unnatural red hair back. "Your street filth will get all over my fine clothes!"

Erik growled deep in his throat. _Repulsive black widow...fine clothes indeed._ Then he looked at the girl, seeing a change coming over her pretty face.

"I do apologize Signora," she said with cool sweetness, her golden eyes losing some of their warmth. "Your clothes are indeed fine...but my street filth is too good for them."

Erik's went slack jawed at her fearlessness. _Bravo mam'selle._

"Why you dirty little commoner!" Carlotta screeched in her awful high voice.

Her plush rosy lips curled into a sly grin. "Yes, well, I could stay and think of a retort, but I have to go relieve myself," Elaine returned without the least bit of malice, earning a few giggles from the ballet girls hiding in the wings. Erik almost exploded with laughter himself. Carlotta screeched again and stomped off, huffing and whining. Elaine grinned in triumph and he heard her leave the stage.

After a furious sprint back into the basement, where he knew he could be alone, he fell to the floor and sobbed with great peals of mirth. Never had he seen such a display of guts and control against La Carlotta. He'd seen her send grown men scurrying away like field mice. He wiped his eyes and drew his cloak about him as he swept down to his lair. Now he was even more intrigued.

--

The next morning, Elaine raced down to the opera house to view the results. Her heart raced as she scanned the list. Leading tenors... sopranos... chorus... then the orchestra. She screamed and clapped her hands with glee when she saw it:

_Lead violinist: M. Marque Gallin  
Alternate: Mlle. Elaine Tourouse_

"Oh! Oh my goodness! I can't believe it...Oh, I-I'm going to fall!"

"Allow me," said a deep voice behind her, and she felt someone catch her arm as she staggered back. She gasped and turned her head to see a handsome young man with a wide smile. His eyes were as blue as ice, yet they were warm. She blushed, smoothing her hand through her thick hair as he steadied her.

"I…um…thank you, m'sieur."

"Now you've got your feet back, tell me _cheri_, what made you so excited that you needed my assistance?"

"Sorry, I, uh, it's just...look! I'm the alternate for the lead violinist!" she grinned and pointed. "See, that's me! I mean, I hoped I would get the lead chair, but this is definitely a start!" She was so excited that she failed to notice the warmth rapidly leaving his eyes.

"Is that so? Then I should introduce myself. My name is Marque Gallin."

"Oh! Well hello, I'm Elaine, but I guess you can see that," Elaine smiled and extended her hand to him. He glanced at it but didn't take it.

"My fingers are for violins, not for hands," he said curtly, yet retaining the smooth coolness in his voice.

"I see," she frowned at his complete turnaround. Undaunted, she decided to take a different approach. "You must be very good to be in the lead chair."

Marque looked into her eyes, his own taking on a more arctic luster, "Yes, I am 'very good'. I am the best, and I have been for four years. Luck might get you in favor with that fool Reyer, but you would do well to learn that life is not served on a golden plate for you. This position will never be yours, no matter what he thinks. I've worked too hard to have my career threatened by some No One from No Place. So just keep out of my way."

Elaine's usually soft eyes grew hard with indignant fire. _Was that a threat?_ "Are you quite finished?" Gallin grew silent at the sudden ice in her voice. "I must tell you that you are wasting your precious time on me. I do not give way to a pompous, preening brat just because he tells me to. I _will_ strive for that position. If you'll excuse me, I'm leaving for my quarters, and you should do the same, so you can get back to courting your reflection."

Elaine turned on her heel and stalked off, too quickly to see the shocked look on his face. And there was no way she could see the shocked look on another man's face.

From his perch high above them, Erik sputtered with silent laughter. This girl was certainly no damsel in distress. Any other girl would have crumbled under such a threat. At this thought, Erik's jaw went tense. Gallin had no right to speak to her in such a manner. He would have had no quarrel with the violinist aside from his smugness and lackluster technique, but now something needed to be done. This extraordinary girl needed a better chance than just waiting around for some cocky little twit to become ill!

_First things first Erik._

Gallin would have to wait. He had someone else on his mind.

--

"Bastard! Who does he think he is!"

Elaine was still fuming when she rounded the corner in the long, winding hallway. She followed the small numbered plates until she found her assigned practice room. Opening the door, her mouth fell open.

She'd expected to find a room with enough space for her and a mouse. Instead, she was standing in a nicely sized room with a modest built-in vanity and enough space for her easel and instrument cases. There was even enough space for a cot to sleep on. The only thing wrong with it was the dust and grime all over.

"Well, better get stared Elaine," She breathed to herself and left for the hotel.

Hours later, the room fit her taste. Her tall oak easel stood in the corner with a lantern hanging over it and her paints neatly stores behind it. The new armoire was filled, and with the amount of money she had left, she was able to purchase a fine full-length mirror to mount on the wall. Her violin case and stacks of books sat beside the vanity. With a length of canvas and some nylon rope, she'd made a large hammock, in place of a cot, and hung it towards the far wall. Various other pieces of furniture were set around, and the fine layer of dust that had draped the room was gone. She stood back to admire her handiwork.

Well, it's clean, it's comfy...It feels like home," she smiled tiredly, and laid down in the hammock. It swayed gently, and a wave of sleepiness washed over her. She stretched and sighed, sinking into a soft nap, completely unaware of a pair of mismatched eyes watching her from behind the walls.


	3. Accidentals

Authoress' Notes: Oi, here we go again...ALW and M. Leroux own the PotO characters, not me. Get it? NOT me!

_Thoughts_

--

A Twist of Faith  
Chapter Three: Accidentals  
--

Reluctantly, the mist of sleep dissipated from Elaine and she stirred gently. She stretched like a cat and yawned. Reaching into her pocket, she fished around for her watch. It was two in the afternoon. She had an hour before rehearsals. Not too late, but it was time to face the music...and Reyer.

Untangling herself from the hammock, she set her feet on the ground and stretched more fully. She rubbed her eyes and walked lazily to her violin. Withdrawing a tiny brass key from her pocket, she unlocked it with a click. She drew it out of the soft crimson velvet and admired the sweet brown color of the wood.

This was the same violin her papa had bought her four years ago. She remembered the first time she tried to play it. One of the strings broke. She was so upset that she nearly gave up. But Papa came to the rescue, drying her tears. He showed her how to cradle it under her chin, how to draw the bow across the gilded strings. He was her strength to continue.

She smiled remembering. Papa was always strong. Her mama was spirited, but Papa was strength in its true form. He was the best, dedicated, grounded in love and never backed away from anything. She learned from him, taking a little of him with her when she left home.

_"Have a strong heart, 'Lainie,"_ he told her as she boarded the carriage._ "Live life to the fullest and you'll reap the finest rewards. And always remember Mama. Jacqueline always gave everyone a chance. Never turn your head from a stranger or be quick to judge." _

When she was fifteen, her mother had taken ill with a strange malady. None of the doctors had ever seen it before, and although it didn't seem contagious, they committed her to bed-rest. After about two months of vigil, it became clear that she wouldn't survive.

Elaine was very distraught, but looking at her mother's strong, steady smile everyday gave her a little hope. When Elaine was on an errand for her, she passed a street performer—a ragged old man who was playing a violin for spare francs, but Elaine was enchanted. How such music could come from such a simple looking instrument escaped her. But that day, she wanted to find out.

She told her mother, who just smiled feverishly and squeezed her hand three times; she was too weak to speak then, so that was how they said "I love you". She took lessons with her father every other day, leaving the remainder of the week to paint. She'd finished the oval portrait of her mother after she'd been ill for eight months. When Elaine went to show her the finished product, Jacqueline was so weak she could barely turn her head. Elaine felt the tears prickling behind her golden eyes as she told her mother how much she was loved. Slowly, her mother's thin black brows went up and down three times, and Elaine burst into tears. Two days later, she was completely gone.

"_Remember Mama 'Lainie."_

"I will remember Papa," she breathed, a tear rolling down her cheek. She brushed it away and stood up to leave, when something caught her eye. An ivory envelope lay where her case had been. She stooped down and picked it up, turning it over in her hands. The deep red ink bore her name in fine handwriting and she opened it, intrigued. Inside was a letter on black edged parchment in the same red ink:

_Dear Mlle. Tourouse, _

_I trust that you are comfortable here in my opera house. I have heard you play and I have also witnessed how you handled Carlotta and M. Gallin and I must say you astound me. It appears that we have much in common. I hope that I am not being too forward, but I would appreciate it if we could somehow arrange a meeting. Please write your answer on the back of this letter and place it behind the gray marble column in the right wing.  
Your obedient servant,  
O.G. _

Elaine blinked. O.G.? His opera house? And how did he see her with Gallin? She looked at the parchment and a small smile crept over her face. He wanted to meet her, and it was up to her. She turned it over in her head. Perhaps he was an actor or a stagehand, just a regular. What would be the harm in a friendly meeting?

She sat down at her vanity and penned her answer, the smile still lingering on her lips. Her first attempt at making friends had failed, now someone else was taking the first step. She slipped it into the envelope and laid it in her case. Glancing at her watch she found she still had fifteen minutes. Still plenty of time but she decided to show up early. She unlatched the door and walked happily towards the stage.

She was in such a good mood, that she hadn't stopped to wonder: If the door was locked, how did she receive her letter?

--

When Elaine reached the stage, she was surprised to see only a handful of people there; herself, at least half of the orchestra, and a small knot of chorus girls. Gallin gave her an icy stare, and in response she gave him a sly wink, a wicked smile on her lips. She thought she saw him startle a little before turning away. She smiled, emerging triumphant again.

"Hello there!"

She spun around at the sound of her name. A short distance away was the small group of ballet girls, the eldest looking girl waving at her. She smiled brightly and went to introduce herself.

"Hello, I'm Meg Giry, lead dancer," said the slender sweet-faced blonde-haired woman who had waved.

"Hi Meg," Elaine said, holding out her hand. "I'm..."

"Elaine, we know," she found herself cut off by the tall redhead behind Meg, "I'm Rachelle."

"Oh, hello...how do you know me?"

A dainty brunette with blue eyes piped up, "We saw how you handled La Carlotta yesterday! You're really something!"

"Am I?" Elaine asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"What Jeanette means is that it's rather difficult to get Carlotta to shut her _constantly_ open mouth," Rachelle explained.

Elaine shrugged, "She's a stuck-up old cow. Doesn't take much to bring them off of their high ivory towers."

This set the whole circle giggling. "You think she's an old cow now, wait for rehearsals to start!" one girl exclaimed, earning an elaborate groan from Jeanette.

"Cheer up," she said, casting her eyes up, "Maybe she'll start croaking again!" For emphasis, she began croaking like a toad, sending a fresh wave of giggles through her friends.

"Yes, maybe the Opera Ghost will return!" Rachelle threw out, tossing her head back and laughing villainously. Meg elbowed her and told her to hush.

_Opera Ghost?_ Elaine thought, her grin vanishing. _O.G.?_

Meg noted her fading smile, "Alright that's enough talk of Opera Ghosts. Look now, you've gotten her all nervous..."

The girls stopped, but not because of Meg. Reyer had just entered the auditorium and did not look too pleased with the miniscule amount of the company who had arrived. "We will simply start without the remainder of this company!" he shouted over all the chatter. The group dispersed, leaving Meg and Elaine alone.

Elaine rolled her shoulders back to relieve the sudden tightness in her neck. She couldn't shed the uneasiness that made her mouth feel dry.

"Elaine? Are you all right?" Meg asked as she sat on the floor to stretch.

Elaine looked earnestly at her new friend, "No Meg, I'm not."

Meg motioned for her to sit down next to her. "What's the matter? Are you worried about Reyer?"

Elaine shook her head, pulling her knees to her chin, "No, I find that I kind of like Reyer. He's so energetic. I'll bet no one slacks off here."

Meg shook her strawberry curls. "No, and if they did they'd get a verbal thrashing. And you don't want that, believe me." Elaine chuckled and sighed. Meg's brow creased, "Elaine, what's wrong?"

Elaine debated a moment, wondering if she should tell Meg. Then she set her lips tight and took a deep breath. "Meg, how long have you been here, at the opera?"

"About five years, why?"

"So you'd probably know just about everyone here, who's come and gone?" Meg nodded slowly, a flash of worry crossing her face. Elaine reached into her pocket and produced a creamy envelope and handed it to Meg. "I received this, and he sounded as if he's here regularly. I figured he was a singer or a..."

"O.G.!" Meg said a little too loudly, making Elaine start. "Mon dieu...I was sure that...When did you get this?" she asked, her hand shaking as she handed the letter back to Elaine.

Elaine felt her face go pale at Meg's gravity. "Well I don't know when he dropped it off, but I found it about five minutes before I arrived here," she explained, a faint smile curling her lips. "He sounded polite enough, so I thought..."

"Elaine!" Meg whispered earnestly, cutting her musings short. Her eyes were wide and scared. "I think you've been visited by the Opera Ghost..."

--

_God no! No, you little brat! Don't, you'll frighten her!_

High above them on the rafters, Erik's mind silently screamed at Meg as she began storytelling. He was so close to meeting a kindred soul and this blasted story had to come up. _It can't end before it begins!_ He was somewhat relieved when the dancer left out certain...select details...but he was certain the girl would be too afraid to consider meeting him.

Back on the stage, Elaine's bright eyes grew wider and more intrigued as Meg spun her tale. When she'd finished, she finally let out a long sigh, as if exhausted with the bizarre tale she'd just heard. "Wow...you're not kidding?" Meg shook her head very seriously and Erik's heart fell like a stage weight. "He _really_ dropped a scenery flat on La Carlotta?" Erik's ears pricked up at the mild amusement in her soft voice.

"Well...no, actually he missed her."

"Well, drat then! I hope the scenery wasn't damaged," she pouted jokingly.

Meg's eyes and Erik's flew wide. "Wh-what..." Meg breathed aghast.

Elaine grinned, "Well, it wouldn't have been _such_ a loss really, would it?"

Meg giggled behind her hand, "No, I guess not."

_So Elaine, you are not afraid of me?_ Erik's mind asked her with a hopeful smile.

"So, you're not scared?" Meg asked, unwittingly voicing his thoughts.

Elaine smiled, "No, not really. Not that your story didn't surprise me, but I see no reason not to meet your Ghost."

Meg frowned, concerned with her friend's decision. "Just be careful, promise?" she asked, holding out her little finger to Elaine.

"Promise," Elaine answered, linking their fingers. Off to the side, Reyer clapped his hands sharply to call everyone to rehearse. Meg and the other dancers scampered off to the ballet mistress.

Elaine picked up her case and walked briskly towards the orchestra pit. On her way, she passed the gray column. She paused and removed the letter from her pocket, placing it back in the envelope. She placed it towards the back so no one would take it. No one but her Opera Ghost.

The first hour of rehearsals passed lethargically if at all. The opera was Puccini's "Gianni Schicchi", foreign to Elaine, but nonetheless beautiful, and she picked up on it fairly easily. She was disgusted with playing at the same time as Gallin. Several times he turned to her and leered or glared convinced he was the better player. But he played too stiffly for the romance of the music, and she played all the better, undaunted by his arrogance.

She winced when Carlotta practiced her aria, and she politely suppressed a gag. Thankfully, the song was short, but the overdone diva butchered every note either way. The song was supposed to be sweet and tender, as Laurette pleads with her father Gianni to allow her to marry her true love. _Even _I_ could sing it better,_ she thought.

"_Atención_!" Reyer barked, snapping her out of her thoughts. He didn't look too pleased. "You must all watch your accidentals! One of the violins was dragging behind here!" he stabbed at the music with a finger. Gallin swiveled his head to Elaine and smirked in pompous victory. Elaine frowned and glanced at Reyer.

She almost laughed and let her eyes direct Gallin back to Reyer, who was shooting daggers at him. "Monsieur Gallin! You will cease gazing over your shoulder and pay attention!" he bellowed, and Elaine watched with glee as Gallin's face went white as a sheet. "Even if you are the lead violinist, you must not take the music at your own speed! You would do well to learn a few things from your alternate, Mlle. Tourouse there! She keeps her eyes on her music!" Marque's face regained a hint of red and looked as if he might choke. Elaine grinned at Reyer and he nodded approvingly back, but did not smile. "We will take it from the top, and you, M. Gallin, will _not_ play! You will sit and listen to the orchestra play and find a way to match tempo! Mlle. Tourouse, you alone will play the leading part."

Elaine nodded solemnly, even though her heart was doing cartwheels of triumph. Rage ran crimson all over Gallin's face and he glared at her with bitter hatred. Elaine just shrugged and smiled sweetly.

The opera went very smoothly from that point, except for Carlotta whose voice was—not surprisingly—beginning to get raw, but Reyer wasn't going to stop for her. Finally, Reyer brought his hands down, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Very good, all of you! Brava!" The company absolutely beamed, all except Gallin, who still bore thunderheads in his eyes. "You may all take an hour!" Select cheers went up and some got up to leave, but were stopped abruptly, "But I warn anyone who is late! You will not be taken gently!" he snapped, turned on his heel and walked off. This struck a chord in everyone, and even Carlotta looked apprehensive. After a moment of silence, the company dispersed into ragged groups.

Elaine placed her violin back into the case and ascended the stage, looking for the ballet girls. Gallin was walking towards her glowering in humiliation. She gave him a pout. "Oh, did poor baby get scolded?" she asked in mock pity. As he passed her, he stuck his foot underneath hers, causing her to stumble and almost drop her violin. She fairly panicked and struggled to regain control. When the violin case was safe, she hugged it protectively to her breast. She turned her head to Gallin, her eyes blazing. "I will remember that m'sieur. You will pay," she growled.

"I'd advise that you watch your step, mam'selle. Accidents are known to happen around here," he said in feigned concern, walking away into the shadows. Elaine shuddered, made a soft sound of repulsion, and went to find Meg. As she passed the column, she bent down to check on her letter, but it was no longer there. Her heart jumped, but she calmed herself quickly. _My mysterious O.G. must've claimed it already; nothing to worry about.'_

"Elaine, over here!" She looked up to see Jeanette waving at her with the group close by. She grinned and walked towards them. Then her eyes widened and she stopped. She'd heard something over her head: a soft creaking sound. Bits of dust and splinters floated down into her hair.

Then there was a loud snap and she leapt to her right into a discarded curtain.

"Elaine!" Meg screamed as the massive sandbag slammed into the hardwood where her friend had been standing only seconds ago. She raced to her side, the group following close at her heels. "Elaine! Are you alright?"

"Who's up there?"

"Say something!"

"My God she's so pale!"

Elaine's gazed all around her, from Meg to the girls to the sandbag and back again. "I'm- I'm okay, I'm just..."Her head swam and she closed her eyes.

"She's going to faint!" Rachelle gasped, trying to steady her.

"No, I'll be alright. I-I need something to drink," she croaked, her body shaking violently.

"Get some water, hurry!" Meg ordered, settling next to her to try and calm her.

Soon Elaine stopped shaking and breathed deeper. All around her, the girls chattered of the Opera Ghost, Meg and Rachelle doing their best to hush them. Elaine was lost in her own thoughts. _Nothing to worry about, eh? That was too close. Who would want to...no. No, he wouldn't. Accidents... that BASTARD!  
_  
--

_Time for him to die! He's a dead man!_

Those were the only words running through Erik's enraged mind, spurring him on to find Gallin.

He'd been watching Elaine from above with contentment when some movement caught his eye. He watched as the violinist unsheathed his knife and severed the rope holding the sandbag. Thank God, she had fine reflexes; in his position, he couldn't have stopped Gallin or saved Elaine in time. Now his inner voice screamed for justice. That wretched vermin had just tried to murder a girl who had done no harm, besides to his pride.

He suddenly stopped his relentless pursuit of Gallin and smiled, remembering how she'd stifled her laughter to show Gallin who Reyer was cross with, how the arrogant twit had paled under the criticism.

Then he realized something amazing. He no longer had the desire to kill Gallin. In the old days, he would have snapped his neck without a thought. But now, after Elaine had just heard about his doings as the Opera Ghost, such a deed would destroy his every chance of meeting her. Still, something had to be done. Marque Gallin no longer deserved to touch an instrument or have anything to do with his opera.

His dark and brilliant mind began its work and he chuckled, feeling a bit of his old Opera Ghost spirit returning. He'd just formed a plan that would satisfy him and, perhaps, please Elaine as well.

--

"Alright everyone! Return to your places at once!" Reyer bellowed over everyone's babble. Gradually, the company filled their positions and Gallin snarled when he saw Elaine sit down to tune her violin. Obviously he'd missed his target, but next time he'd be more direct.

"Now from the top, two beats and start. Ready, one and two and..."

But the rehearsal never went any further. There was a shrill scream from a chorus girl and a great commotion in the pit as the sandbag plummeted down onto Gallin. He cried out in surprise and then in pain as the weight pinned his hands to the ground and crushed into his bones.

"He's back! _Il fantasma dell'opera!_" Carlotta shrieked and ran for the door hysterically.

"Back away! Give us space!" barked Reyer. "Pierre, help me with this weight!"

"Get it off me! Get it off!" Gallin wailed and Elaine couldn't help but cringe.

Soon the bag was removed from him, but at a glance it was clear that his hands and wrists were badly broken. An examination of the bag revealed the reason; there was a thick metal plate fastened onto the bottom. Inscribed on the canvas bag was a hastily written message in red ink, which Reyer read aloud.

"_'Life may not be served on golden plates monsieur, but iron justice is served in such ways! - O.G.'_"

Elaine gasped and swayed back gently into Meg's supporting hands. "M-Monsieur Reyer? M-may I be excused? Please?" she tried to keep her voice steady but failed miserably.

"What? Oh! Oh, yes, err, all of you may leave! We will pick up tomorrow at three!"

Everyone scattered quickly, all clamoring and talking at once. Elaine walked slowly back to her room, a smile spreading across her face. _Why am I smiling?_ she asked herself. _Is it because I really don't care? Did I want it to happen?_ A thousand puzzling thoughts swirled together in her mind. _So painful...so precise...so...ironic._ She thought, her smile widening.

Halfway down the hall, she began to laugh softly as she entered the room and closed the door. She struggled through fits of laughter, "If you're listening, that was beautiful."

From behind the wall, Erik grinned. He had been correct in his assumptions. And this...unfortunate incident didn't look to impede their eventual meeting. The faint crinkle of paper in his breast pocket reminded him of her response. He might be jumping to conclusions about this meeting. He'd been so...preoccupied that he'd neglected to read it.

_Dear O.G., _

_You are not being too forward at all. I would love to meet you. Tomorrow night at eight, meet me onstage. Thank you for the compliments._

_Cordially,  
Elaine _

Erik's eyes glittered in the dark. Tomorrow night... he could barely breathe. He looked at it again.

"_I would love to meet you."_

That was all Erik ever wanted to hear.

--  
((To be continued. Okay so far?))


	4. Soft as Candlelight

Authoress' Notes: These characters belong to ALW yadda yadda yadda, based on Gaston L.'s story blah blah blah, you know the story. This chapter's been a long time coming, so here it is! I hope you like it!

--

A Twist of Faith  
Chapter Four: Soft as Candlelight  
--

The next day, reports came to rehearsals about M. Gallin's condition. Needless to say his hands were ruined. His right had lost two fingers and his left wrist had been cracked in two, so he would never grip the same way again. This meant that Elaine was now the head violinist of the orchestra.

Elaine positively glowed when she heard the news. Now she would show everyone just what they'd been missing. She felt like dancing, and yet she couldn't help feeling guilty. She had gained the position at Gallin's expense. Before she could mull over it anymore, Meg nearly knocked her over in a great hug.

"Elaine, it's so wonderful!" she bubbled, grabbing her hands in her excitement. "No more waiting for that distant window! It's all yours now!"

Elaine tried to smile, but only half of her lips obeyed, "Yes, but at a price. I still can't get his screaming out of my head."

Meg's mind raced, trying to think of a way to cheer her up about it, "Well... maybe it isn't _such_ a great loss."

Hearing an echo of her own words, Elaine's eyes sparkled and she laughed out loud, "Such a range! Maybe he should be the lead soprano!" she giggled and Meg joined her as they left the stage to warm up. Elaine felt the weight of her watch in her pocket and reached in to check the time. Five after three. "Five hours," she said quietly, and Meg looked up from her stretches.

"Hmm? What's that?"

"Oh, I'm meeting someone tonight at eight," she answered brightly.

"Oh, are you now?" Meg grinned, nudging her jokingly, "Now I _wonder_ who... oh," her smile suddenly vanished.

Elaine looked at her, confused, "What's... oh Meg don't look at me like that. I've already promised to be careful."

"I know, but, I'm scared. I can't help it. Must you?"

Elaine firmly nodded, "Yes Meg, I must. He just sounds like... I don't know, but I can't refuse. Can you understand?"

Meg looked at the ground, debating a moment. Knowing about most of the man's past, she was ever imbued with an anxiety about him. Yet, she recalled the letter, reading how carefully he chose the way to meet, giving her the choice. Maybe he was just lonely, she could think of no one who knew loneliness like him. Maybe he deserved to meet Elaine. After a moment, she looked up at Elaine and nodded solemnly. Then she smiled, "Just remember, you 'pinky-linked'. If you're not careful, I'll break your finger, and you'll start playing like Gallin!" She tried to sound menacing, but failed entirely.

"Oh cruel and unusual torment!" Elaine wailed, stifling her laughter. Meg snorted and they broke up helplessly all the way back to the stage. Unknown to them, above them a pair of eyes glistened with unshed tears, his lips curled into a soft grin.

After three fifteen, Carlotta had not returned, so her understudy, a younger girl named Genevieve, was instructed to sing, which was a mercy on Elaine's ears. She handled the romantic feel of the arias very well, and was beautifully voiced for an understudy. _Pigheaded idiots, those managers, _she thought. _She should've gotten the role in the first place._ She smiled inwardly, thinking how she wouldn't be surprised if they discovered Carlotta with her mouth fastened shut.

From the column in the wings, Erik held his breath in awe at the music he heard on his stage. The young singer was properly trained and fit the part, the chorus never wavered and the orchestra sounded perfect. He knew why; there was no lack wit violinist in the head chair, only a lovely intelligent young woman who played like an angel. Her music said so much about her, things that he might discover tonight. He checked his silver pocket watch. "Four and a half hours," he sighed, glancing at her again, "Well worth the wait."

--

As soon as rehearsals let out at seven, Elaine raced back to her room. Latching the door, she tore through her wardrobe, pushing racks of dresses aside. She pulled out one of her favorites; a comfortable linen dress in a warm green, and a clean slip and laid them in the hammock. Then she set to her appearance. After catching the brush in her hair twice, she took a deep breath and slowed down.

_Why am I so eager to meet him? Maybe it's not eagerness and I'm truly afraid? Why else would I be rushing? Maybe that's what I'm doing, rushing headlong into...a friendship?_

But she had a right to want to be friends, didn't she? So why was she so jumpy? She looked at her reflection and was astonished at what she saw; a little girl all excited about meeting a boy.

But she was no longer a little girl, and O.G. was certainly no boy.

Still staring into her own eyes, she reviewed her situation. A mysterious note, from a man that she was gradually figuring out, who wanted to meet her, "cordially" as it was.

So that was that. She wasn't scared, her inner child was just a little noisy. _Just take a breath now, there. Stop hopping about the room like a cricket!_ She told herself and nodded. Slowly, she drew the brush through her thick tresses. She worked gentler and was done in less time than she expected. Feeling comfortable and looking, she thought, naturally pretty, she tuned her violin, slipped into her soft shoes and walked cautiously towards the stage.

--

Up in Box Five, Erik checked his watch for the third time. 'Five minutes to eight. God, the time refuses to pass.' He wondered with some apprehension if this was such a good idea, if it was all a big mistake. Then another thought popped into his worrying mind: What if his watch was slow and she had decided not to come at all. He shuddered inwardly and drew himself deeper into his cloak.

Then there was a soft light in the wings and he sat up in his chair. A small figure carefully peeked onto the stage, carrying a tiny candle.

Elaine.

Erik's heart sang. So she had wanted to meet him after all. He exited his box and silently made his way to the stage. Just as he entered his secret column, he heard something emanating from the stage. It was soft and muted, but incredibly sweet. It gradually grew stronger, yet retained its unearthly beauty, like the perfume of an opening rose.

He looked trough a tiny space in the column to discover Elaine seated on the floor drawing the slender bow over the violin strings, like a spinner drawing golden threads from a wheel. The music washed over him like warm waves, inviting him deeper and deeper into the drowning. Of their own free will, his hands sought the opening of his hiding place and he exited into the wings. He stood there, watching her sway in the candlelight as the music moved her. She was playing an aria from the opera, the lead tenor's ironically enough, and Erik could no longer help himself.

Softly, he lifted his ethereal voice, letting the lyrics roll off of his tongue and fill the air. Languidly, he grew bolder, taking slow, trance-like steps towards the soft, hazy light, letting his song become louder and richer than ever. The song ended just before he reached the circle of light where she sat, seemingly unaware or unmindful of his presence. She set the violin into its case and gazed up into the rafters.

"O.G." she asked the air above her.

"Yes mam'selle. I'm here," replied Erik, gathering his wits back from... wherever she guided them.

Elaine stood up and faced him, or rather the direction of his voice, and smiled brightly. "I'm glad you came."

Erik chuckled low, "Did you think I wouldn't?"

"Well, maybe a bit, but not enough to worry me to death," she stammered, certain that she was blushing. A length of silence passed between them, and she began to feel anxious about not seeing him.

Erik sensed her discomfort. "Your music is exquisite, my dear," he purred, taking a timid step closer, but careful to remain cloaked in shadow.

"As is your voice!" she said almost ecstatic, "You're singing is incredible O.G." she glanced at her feet and smiled sheepishly, "That is obviously not your title m'sieur..."

"Erik," he said, answering her unspoken question. "Call me Erik."

"Erik...it's wonderful. So that means no more '_mam'selles_' for you. It's Elaine from now on Erik," then she laughed softly, "Unfortunately, I have no face to pair with such a nice name. I cannot quite see you Erik."

Erik growled to himself. This was what he was afraid of. "You will never see my face Elaine." He saw her cock her head. He'd confused her. "I mean... well..."

"Erik?"

He took a deep breath, "Promise me you won't run," he whispered raggedly. She nodded and chuckled.

"This is the third promise I've made this week."

Erik tried to smile, but found himself unable to shed the fear that she would ask about... he pushed the thought aside and slowly, cautiously emerged from the shadows.

Elaine's breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. He towered over her, at least a foot taller than she. His build was strong and cast a rich shadow into the circle of candlelight. He was dressed in full, fine evening attire, all ebony black; rich, yet elegantly modest. He wore a floppy black felt hat, drawn low over his brow. His hands were long and tapered and all around him, an aura of command radiated from him, yet he wasn't threatening to her in the least. Most distinctive was a white porcelain mask covering the right side of his forehead and cheek and over his nose. The other half of his face was exposed, well molded and regally handsome. Now she saw why he said she wouldn't see his face.

Erik waited with baited breath for her reaction, silently hoping she wouldn't shrink away. Then she did just the opposite, she took a soft step towards him. Instinctively, he let himself melt back into the shadows, and she stopped short.

"Oh... I-I'm sorry Erik..." she whispered.

Erik's eyes softened. "For...for what?"

Elaine looked up at him, "I...I just felt that I was advancing on you, being too forward and... I made you afraid," her voice wavered, "Forgive me please." She dropped her head and clasped her hands to her breast. Erik's defenses gave way slightly and tears pricked at his eyes. He walked back into the light towards her.

"Elaine? Please look at me. I need to know that you are not afraid. I... you didn't...it's just that no one has ever really wanted to get close to someone like me and I was so afraid I would frighten you."

Elaine opened her eyes and looked up at him. But before she could answer him, a strange wondrous look crossed her face. "Your eyes... they're, I've never seen..." she trailed off in awe. One of his eyes was the color of a swollen storm cloud; the other was a deep, jewel-like green with tiny flecks of gold all through it. "I like them..." Erik smiled at her wonder. She was not staring at him; it seemed she was marveling at him, drinking him in. And he too, could not stop himself from falling into her golden gaze. "Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Will... will you sing again please? I like your voice."

Erik smiled softly, "Of course. What would you like to hear?"

"Another aria. You sing them as if you wrote them," she replied, sitting next to the candle again. Erik looked at her, at the pure innocence in her face, the life shimmering pink on her cheeks. Unconsciously, his voice lifted in a song about a love struck boy marveling over the beauty of his lover.

Elaine closed her eyes and let the music envelope her like a cloud of fragrance. His voice was like warm honey: golden, sweet and fluid. His tenor and baritone were operatic, yet they held a more liberal, angelic quality you seldom hear outside of dreams. The lyrics and notes were familiar, yet she felt like she'd never heard it before tonight. It seemed that the song itself was a silken banner, caressing over her in soft, sensual folds.

When the song ended, rich echoes hung all through the air. Erik breathed deeply; how he'd missed singing! He looked down at Elaine, her eyes closed, long lashes dusting shadows onto her cheeks. _Such a pretty child._ Then she opened her eyes and smiled sunlight at him.

"Marvelous... absolutely beautiful Erik," she gasped, suddenly breathless. He extended his hand to her, which she gratefully took, standing up. He didn't let it go, but bent low and kissed it lingeringly, and she felt her face burn.

"It was lovely to have met you Elaine," he said sincerely. She covered his hand with her own and grinned into his eyes.

"Yes it was. So, shall we meet here again?"

Erik's mind reeled a moment. _She truly wants to be friends, with me..._ "Tomorrow night at the same time," he answered, barely thinking.

Her brow furrowed, "Sorry, I have an appointment at eight," Erik's heart sank, seeing this as a brush-off. "I can meet you right after rehearsals though. Is that alright?"

Erik's eyes lit up, revived, "Thank you, I... that will do fine."

"Wonderful!" she beamed. "Well, goodnight Erik," she said picking up her violin.

He smiled and her eyes fastened on his full lips. "Goodnight Elaine. Sweet dreams."

"To you as well," she called over her shoulder as she walked off into the wings, her steps slow and gliding. Erik felt a barely discernable spring in his step as he entered the secret passage to his home. The forgotten candle, reveling in the secret exchange it alone had witnessed, danced and flickered deep into the night until it too slept in the darkness.


	5. Night Music

Authoress' Notes: Okay, ALW n Leroux own Erik (:Although I wish I DID:: Mm-mm: Erik, does a body GOOD idrool:D) and I certainly don't own "O Holy Night" (the French is mine, but correct me if I'm wrong.). I own Elaine and little tidbit characters, but you already know that. So I'll stop wasting your time and let you read, ENJOY!

--

A Twist of Faith  
Chapter Five: Night Music  
--

"No, no, NO, NO!" Reyer roared, crashing his hands down onto the keyboard. The piano let out a furious discordant sound that made everyone curl and cringe. "That is the third time you have butchered this scale! If you are to be the Prima Donna, you must stop singing in your own bloody key!"

There was a profound silence before another outburst was made. "How dare you insult me like that! I am the only reason you bring francs into this glorified hovel! If you think you or anyone else can sing this as well as I..."

"Signora, if you can call that... that grating _caterwaul_ singing, then I suggest you go and howl with the cats! Now either leave or learn the wretched scale!" Carlotta's gaping mouth hung open like a carp's, frozen in shock, as did many others in the company. "No? Very well then. Mlle. Fauntelle, the role is yours... permanently!"

Carlotta's face flushed as red as her hair. "Oh! I…I…That's VERY WELL with me! I refuse to be badgered by the likes of you! Replaced! Humiliated! Insulted! ENOUGH!" Her eyes flashing fire, she opened her libretto and savagely ripped it in two with a great scream. "I QUIT!" She threw the ruined libretto into the orchestra pit, causing no little bit of a stir. "And I will never return! NEVER!" With that, she gathered up her layers of feathered clothes and flounced angrily out the doors, raging and cursing in Italian.

Reyer breathed a huge sigh, and began rearranging his music. "Goodbye and good bloody riddance!" he declared freely, and Elaine cheered inwardly. Three days after Gallin's... accident, Carlotta had returned and demanded her role from "that wailing little piece of fluff" speaking of Genevieve, who was very distraught. Even more upset was Reyer, who in the following forty-eight hours adopted a rather sour attitude to any who got under his skin, namely a puffy Italian diva. He used to bear so many of her beyond-sour notes that it made Elaine wonder if he _and _Carlotta were tone-deaf. But when he praised Genevieve, she knew what a fine ear he had. It seemed he finally heard what a truly fine singer should sound like.

"Alright everyone, we will have to situate the new arrangement! Dancers and orchestra, you may take a half of an hour. Come back ready for a true rehearsal! All singers, come forward for assigned roles!" Elaine grinned at Reyer's sudden mood change. He really was the most amusing little man.

Glancing down, Elaine saw the torn libretto, pages of music scattered around like fallen petals. She picked it up cradling it in her hands, seeing a bird with broken wings instead of a ruined book. Anger flared and boiled up inside her, but she found herself relieved that Erik had not seen, or had chosen not to act. Even in the five days since she'd met him, she knew well enough how he might have reacted to the desecration of any piece of music.

Elaine smiled, musing over the past days. In the course of half a week, this extraordinary man had completely won her trust and friendship. She sobered as she remembered when she first called him such...

--**FLASHBACK--**

"Elaine?"

"Yes Erik?" she looked up at him from tuning her violin.

Erik struggled slightly with his next question. "Can you, that is... do you sing?"

Elaine cringed. Three days since he sang, she'd hoped this might not come up so soon. She decided to allude the question and make conversation. "What gave you the impression?"

"Well, you have a lovely voice when you speak. It has quality. You have a singer's voice, I think," he said knowingly.

"Well, I... I suppose I could, but it wouldn't be very good. It wouldn't compare to Genevieve at all," she muttered, strangely fascinated with her shoes.

"I wasn't asking you to compare to Genevieve, my dear," he replied in his smooth voice. He watched as she blushed prettily. She looked up at him, her eyes suddenly aglow.

"Speaking of singing, have you ever watched the carolers?"

"Well, no. I'm afraid... I don't get out much."

"Well, there's a lovely troupe performing the day after tomorrow at the cathedral. Would you... would you consider going with me?" He stiffened visibly and Elaine's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh! Oh dear, I'm sorry Erik." she said hurriedly, dropping her head. Then she felt Erik approaching her, his hand alighting uncertainly on her shoulder. "That was terribly forward of me."

"Not at all Elaine," Erik soothed, unconsciously sliding his hand to cup her cheek. "In fact I would like nothing more than to spend an afternoon with you." When he realized where his hand was, he dropped it and looked down. "It's just...well, I don't like being seen in the day."

"Why not?" His eyes glanced fire at her. "Is it this?" she asked innocently, gesturing to his mask. He looked away.

"Why else?" he spat, his voice tainted with bitterness.

"Are you trying to not be recognized? I mean, are people looking for you?"

"No! I'm not! I don't wish to be seen! They'd all despise me!" Erik suddenly found himself shouting at her. She gave a startled gasp and he stopped abruptly as if slapped. He looked back at her, terrified that he'd find her gone, that she'd fled him in fear. Yet, there she stood with a soft, sad look in her eyes that he hadn't seen in a long while... understanding. "Elaine I..." she laid a slender finger on his lips, shaking her head slowly.

"They're shallow, careless people, out there, if they can't look past this Erik," she whispered, gently touching a curve in the cold ceramic.

He shuddered, afraid that she might remove it. He shook his head violently. "You will never see past this mask Elaine."

She smiled ruefully. He'd obviously misunderstood her meaning. "I will never try to remove it, unless you want me to. I promise." He glanced at her, his eyes full of uncertainty. "What I meant was that if people see things only as they look, then they're all fools. As an artist, I look for things that are real, things that are eternal. Things you seldom see." She looked at him; his head was bowed, his broad shoulders shivering. She moved her hand to touch his exposed cheek. "Erik? Did I say something I shouldn't have?" He looked into her eyes, his own mismatched gaze glossy with quelled tears. A terrible feeling of panic came over her; she'd hurt him! He'd already been haunted by sadness enough! She wrapped her arms around his waist. "I'm sorry! Whatever I said, I'm so sorry!" she sobbed into his chest.

Erik's heart jumped when she embraced him. It all happened so quickly that he had no time to explain his tears. Now her shaking form was pressed flush against him, holding him for all she was worth. Tears overflowed onto his cheeks and under his mask as he gently put his arms around her shoulders. "Oh, please don't cry Elaine. I hate seeing you cry," he whispered, his voice rich with tears. "You misunderstand. You've said nothing wrong."

"Yes I did," she mumbled into his chest.

"No Elaine."

She sniffled. "Then, then why are you crying?"

"I... I'm not sure. I think it's because... in less than one minute, you've explained something that's incredibly simple, but has always been out of my reach." He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her away so he could look at her. "It seems it always will be. You see I don't wear this mask to disguise myself. I'm...I'm hideously deformed beneath this mask Elaine."

The words seemed to sting him, and she realized how hard it was for him to tell her that. She felt a great swell of compassion for him and returned to the same embrace. "It's alright Erik. You don't have to tell me anymore." She was concerned at how tense he felt. Then she felt his strength come around her, hugging her appreciatively. She smiled again and lifted her head, her eyes still bright. "You know, I never got to tell you. The little concert is after evening Mass, when it's easier for people to find time. If that makes it any different..." Erik looked at her, seeing how his mask didn't bother her, or at least not enough for her to complain... or ask. He also saw how much she wanted him to go with her. Should he risk it? What if someone...

His mind averted to a scene that only now he imagined. He and Elaine watching the snow fall as a small group of singers light the night air with candles and music of the season... the breeze would smell of crisp air and spices of sorts... he'd take hold of her hand and they'd... _ERIK! What are you _**doing**_ thinking like that? You've only met the child! And she _**is**_ a child! Don't do this to yourself!_ his inner voice once again nagged at him. He could be setting himself up for another... She shifted the embrace to subtly curl her fingers around his sides, and Erik felt her breathing. _No Erik,_ said the voice, calmer and softer now. _Elaine isn't like her. She isn't afraid of you. And I think... she trusts you._

"Elaine? Do you trust me?" Erik asked in a breath. He stepped away for a moment and searched her eyes for answers, but lost himself too quickly in the sweet sunshine in their depths. Across her comely face, a wide shining smile brought a blush to her clean white cheeks.

"Of course I do," she said with clear sincerity, laying her gentle hand on his shoulder. "I make it a point to trust my friends Erik." Elaine found herself nearly smothered in the thick folds of his dress coat. She heard him breathing in great sighs that sounded like hushed laughter. "Erik, wha... what's so wonderful that you are smashing me?" she nearly laughed herself, if she could get a big enough breath. She heard him struggle to speak as his warm tears wet the top of her hair.

"Elaine... I... I have never had the privilege... of being called a friend."

--

_'Never had the privilege...'  
_  
The backs of her eyes prickled with tears. The poor man had obviously been hurt and alone for a long time, possibly his whole life. She briefly wondered what he was hiding under that bit of porcelain. _No more Elaine,_ her mind whispered. _You promised you wouldn't ask. Now just enjoy your break... and think of caroling tonight.  
_  
"Elaine! Elaine over here!" she heard Meg's voice from the wings and ran to meet her for lunch. Meg had finally relaxed to her meetings with Erik, and even showed a spark of interest. The other dancers just twittered and gasped whenever O.G. was mentioned. Meg thought it safer for everyone if they continued to refer to him as such, and Elaine agreed immediately. No matter how she trusted Erik, she knew he was very secretive with his name and had told her never to repeat it, even to Meg. Why? Elaine could only speculate.

"So, how is the little courted one?" Jeanette cooed, earning giggles and whispers from the others. Elaine just looked at her and smirked an 'I'll-never-tell' smirk. "Come now, you've got to tell us."

"Yes Elaine. Who is the handsome young patron you've got wrapped around your little violinist finger?" Rachelle chimed in, nudging her playfully.

Elaine bit into her apple and smiled again, slowly shaking her head. "I can't tell girls. This must remain the strictest of secrets. If it was to leak out, Reyer might think he's interfering with my fabulous career!" she said with a dramatic flair.

"But you told Meg!" Colette pointed out, causing the entire group to erupt in a chorus of "That's right!" and "Come on, get it out!" and "Give! Give!"

Elaine and Meg exchanged worried glances, as the situation was getting out of hand. "Uh, that's because... I-I know him!" Meg shouted over the tumult. Seven pairs of wide, naïve eyes turned towards her. Meg flushed. "Err, you see, Elaine felt that since I knew him, there wouldn't be any... any speculations on his character, and... so... that way, no rumors could be started!" she finished, holding her breath to see if they bought it.

Her response was greeted with sounds of assent and acceptance and she breathed a huge sigh of relief, as did Elaine. The girls gradually got back to eating, and Elaine gave Meg a look that said "That was too close." Meg looked back, and nodded anxiously, hoping she wouldn't have to cover a lie with the truth again.

--

(Three hours later)

After rehearsal, which went as well as could be expected when the crow of a Prima Donna struts away for good, Elaine went to her chamber to change. It had begun to snow lightly since four and she hoped it would last the night. She loved cold nights, if she was warmly bundled up that is. She rooted through her armoire for her coat. She cried out in triumph as her hands landed on the soft velvet and she pulled it out. It was her favorite piece of clothing, soft, subtle and perfect for tonight. She laid it over her vanity chair and searched for a suitable dress. Her eyes lit up when she saw it. "Perfect," she breathed, pulling it from the hanger. She undid her braid and let it fall in soft, dark waves. Pulling it back again into a more suited style, she let a few stray curls frame her face, which was very pale. And when she reached for her slip, she found that her hands were trembling.

Oh, she had never done anything like this before, even in Province. The only time she went out was with her family, or a select few friends. Never before had she been in the company of a man, especially such an intriguing, albeit irresistible man as Erik.

_IRRESISTIBLE? Elaine, what in the /world/ are you thinking? Erik is your friend, a brand new one at that! You shouldn't be thinking like this!_

Or should she? After what happened the other night, the way she was speaking to him... oh God. If it were going to happen, she didn't think it would be so soon. She finished dressing and looked in the mirror, deciding she wouldn't be too surprised if more came out of tonight than caroling.

--

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Erik's boots hit the floor rhythmically as he nervously paced the stage. He had never been this anxious about meeting her. Even the first time he spoke with her his nerves were tamer than this. He'd discarded his wide black hat and had chosen to wear a hooded cloak for the evening and for other... obvious reasons. The thought of being out, among... normal people frightened him a great deal. God, what if someone still recognized him, or if his mask were to...

"Erik?"

Her soft voice echoed from the hall, snapping him out of his fevered thoughts. He turned around to face her as she emerged. His heart almost stopped.

Elaine was dressed in a crushed velvet coat the color of burgundy wine that held tightly to her figure. Silver fox fur trimmed the bottom, wrists and around the hood, making her face look even softer. Underneath the coat, the skirt of a winter-white satin gown spilled out like cream. Two slender curls fell over her face, framing it perfectly, and her eyes were more like candlelight than anything else. She smiled and Erik's breath left him.

"Monsieur le Erik?" she grinned. He took her hand, feeling the smooth skin of her glove, and gently kissed it. The sweet scent of jasmine and heather greeted him pleasantly and he stood up again, hoping he wouldn't fall over.

"Elaine, you look... absolutely stunning," he murmured, barely able to breathe as his eyes swept over her in awe. "I... I don't think I can move."

She looked down, blushing deeply. Timidly, she stepped forward, slowly so she wouldn't crowd him. She looked at him, silently asking if she could. He answered her by taking his own steps towards her, until they were only an arms breadth away. Erik gently lifted his hand to her arm, fingering the silky fur on her coat. "Where did you... who gave this to you?"

"It belonged to my mother, Jacqueline. She...left it to me..." she trailed off, a wave of sadness creeping over her. "She was a wonderful person."

Erik's heart stung at the sadness he heard in her voice. His hand fluttered on her soft shoulder. "I am sorry."

"Thank you," she whispered, straightening with a deep breath. "But that is a story for more somber times. Now, we're going to enjoy the evening, yes?"

Erik nodded. "Oui," he held out his arm to her. "Mademoiselle?"

She smiled into his eyes, "Monsieur," she answered, laying her hand atop his elbow, relishing the thick warm fabric as they left the opera house.

They arrived at Notre Dame just as the first strains of music floated to them. A small gathering of assorted people circled the group of carolers standing on the cathedral steps. Erik pulled his hood down more, hiding himself from the pressing crowd. Elaine glanced up and frowned slightly, not at him, but at the fear that radiated from him. She held his arm tighter, causing him to lower his eyes to her.

"Are you alright?" she asked, still frowning. He glanced around furtively.

"I... I think... I don't know. It's been so long since..."

"It's alright Erik. If you like, we can leave."

Erik looked at her, seeing how sincere she was. She truly cared about his comfort. Yet, he didn't feel right about ending their evening because of his discomfort. He smiled down on her and shook his head. "No. It's as I said before; I would like nothing more than to be here with you tonight. We aren't going anywhere." Her eyes softened and she lay her head against his arm, sensing the powerful muscles beneath the wool and velvet. Erik tensed involuntarily. He couldn't help it, and he couldn't help his eyes roaming over her beautiful form. The coat just added to her allover softness; her eyes, her hair, her voice.

Her voice. Erik just couldn't shake the feeling that she _could_ sing, even though she'd already denied it. Her voice held such a pure quality, such as you only hear in the most well trained of singers... _There you go again Erik. Always analyzing, always examining everything to death. You are out tonight with this sweet, beautiful creature who seems to be enjoying herself. So follow suit!_

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft sweet sound. It sounded much like a violin, fluid and free, yet was unmistakably human. He looked down. Elaine was humming the tune of "Silent Night" as the carolers lifted the song higher into the sky. Her humming was so tender, so quiet as if afraid that the beauty of the song was fragile. Erik found it to be intoxicating as well. Hearing every note so perfectly even in her gentle murmuring, he could no longer stop himself. He began to sing along, just as quiet as she, filling the air around them with his rich full voice.

Elaine stopped humming and looked up at him. His different eyes were dancing as his voice poured over her like a warm rain. She felt light and warm despite the cold night. Oh that voice! It seemed it would swallow her up in its deep, smooth clarity. She could feel her voice begging to join him, but her will pushed it back down; she would hate to interrupt the unbelievable angelic voice that surrounded her like an ocean. She felt herself growing warmer and her head began to swim as her heart raced. Finally, she groaned in complete exhaustion and fell into him, a deep throbbing coursing through her breast. He stopped singing immediately and caught her, his eyes wide.

"Elaine!" he whispered urgently. "Are you alright?"

Elaine opened her eyes groggily and looked at him. He softened his grip on her shoulders when he saw her eyes. They seemed like molten gold, a sweet honey-colored fluid that threatened to spill onto her flushed cheeks. She blinked and let the tears flow down her face, shivering as they crystallized in the night air. Erik's long fingers traced the icy trails on her cheek, feeling how intensely warm she'd become and a pained concern overcame him. "Elaine? Why are you crying? Are you in pain?"

"No Erik," she breathed, still feeling somewhat weak. "It's just... your voice. It's the most wonderful, beautiful thing, I just couldn't help it. Sorry to worry you."

Erik smiled gently, but frowned inwardly. His voice was a beautiful as yet dangerous thing. He had observed before what it could do to people, what it could make people do. It was as blessed as it was cursed.

She pulled herself to her feet, still leaning heavily on his arm. Erik broke from his musings and relaxed into listening again. After a few moments with her softness so close to him, Erik exhaled a long breath and lowered his hand. Elaine tensed when it brushed her hip, searching for her hand. When he felt the smooth kidskin, he tentatively traced over her palm, still a little timid. Would she take it?

Elaine smiled at the sensation of his fingers tickling her palm. She returned the pressure, stroking over the delicate skin and eventually taking hold of it. Her tiny hand was completely encased in his. Erik's eyes began to mist over. How was it that this girl trusted him so completely? 

"Don't you start crying now Erik," He heard her say, looking down and realizing she was gazing at him. "You're tears will turn to icicles," she added with a grin. Erik smiled with her as the final strains of music dimmed with the candlelight.

"Of course Elaine," he sighed sensing her settling against him again. "Of course..."

--

Night-time seemed to heighten the silence in the opera house as the pair entered. Spattered with snow and in good spirits, they walked arm in arm, laughter threatening to consume them.

After the carolers had left the steps of the cathedral, Erik and Elaine just sat there, picking out shapes in the stars. Erik showed her certain constellations, briefly explaining the Greek legends of Orion, Andromeda, Scorpio, and Queen Cassiopeia. She listened wistfully, deftly pointing out others for him to explain, which he did while she sat, rapt at the sound of his voice spinning golden tales of heroes and gods. When they could sit no more, they began walking back to the Opera House.

Along one of the avenues, Elaine spotted a rosebush, skeletal and bare but for one fragile, surviving bloom. She drew Erik down with her to admire the perfect petals, white as the new snow.

"An angel is protecting this one," she whispered as if telling a deep secret. Erik smiled, silently praising her sweet, innocent heart. The smile vanished when the sugar puff of fresh snow hit the exposed side of his face and knocked his hood aside, revealing a sleek length of golden-auburn hair. He looked up, exasperated, and heard Elaine's laughter like tiny bells. The soft white stuff dusted her dark gloves. _Sweet and innocent eh?_ His lips curled into a sly grin.

"Now is that any way for a lady to behave?" he asked, scooping up a handful of the cold whiteness. Elaine's eyes glimmered as her grin widened.

"If ladies aren't allowed, then gentlemen aren't either," she teased, briefly sticking her tongue at him.

"Very well, then you're allowed!" he grinned, gently throwing the snowball at her. It sprayed all over her coat and she let out a squeal, hurriedly making more snowballs. Erik chuckled and followed suit. Soon the pair was engaged in a small spat of dreamy snow as they struggled to the opera between snowballs. Their high-risen laughter twinkled above the stars. Erik had never laughed so much in his entire life.

Now they were finally back inside, still in the throes of the carolers and the snowballs. Elaine stopped inside the lobby to remove her coat and shake off the last traces of snow. Erik stood back, gazing at her. The creamy white dress enhanced her lovely form even more, falling from her shoulders modestly.

When the coat was cleaned, she draped it over her arm and turned to Erik, smiling. "I had an absolutely wonderful time Erik," she said as they made their way through the double doors to the auditorium.

"As did I my dear. I couldn't have seen it going any better."

"I can," she said shyly, earning an interested, somewhat questioning look from Erik.

"What?" he asked taking a cautious step towards her.

"Well, the carolers were lovely, but there was one song that they didn't sing. You've heard of 'La Nuit Sainte'?"

Erik smiled knowingly. "You wish for me to sing for you?"

Elaine looked away. "Well, that is, if you want to. You don't..." It was Erik's turn to touch her lips to silence her.

"It is a favorite, yes?" She smiled beneath his finger and nodded. "If it would please you, you need say no more."

"Thank you Erik. Come over to the piano and I'll play for you," she whispered, gently tugging his hand as a young girl would.

"You play the piano too? My dear, is there nothing you can't do?"

Elaine smiled. "Well, I can't fly."

Erik chuckled. "Perhaps not, but you surely are an angel."

They entered the orchestra pit and Elaine seated herself at the keyboard. Erik pushed chairs and stands aside to make room. Elaine watched him moving, so graceful, not even scraping the chairs. The only sounds she heard were the soft sweep of his cloak and the rapid quickening of her heart, anticipating his gorgeous voice. When at last there was enough space, he returned to her side. She glanced at him and he nodded. She took a deep breath and reverently began to play the introduction. Erik was surprised by her skill with the old instrument and instantly fell into the song.

O la nuit sainte, (O Holy Night,)  
les etoiles brillent avec eclat. (the stars are brightly shining.)  
Il est la nuit (It is the night)  
de notre chere naissance du Sauveur. (of our dear Savior's birth.)

Elaine played with emotion as she remembered her Mama, singing this as a lullaby on Christmas Eve in her honey-sweet voice. And Erik's voice, filled with soft passion, just heightened the timeless beauty of the song. He worked the still air with smooth gestures, making it seem thick and tangible. He sauntered around the grand, caressing the sleek, shining ebony with one graceful hand. Elaine sighed, inwardly wishing for the world that she was deserving and he were touching her as dearly.

Jamais placer le monde (Long lay the world)  
dans peche et erruer languit, (in sin and error pining,)  
jusqu a Il a apparu ('til he appeared)  
et le feutre d'ame sa valeur. (and the soul felt its worth.)

She felt her body grow light as his voice rose higher and richer. A wave of heat washed over her, making her aware of how he affected her. In the next moment, he had stopped behind her and placed his deft hands onto her bared shoulders, and her skin thrilled at his touch.

Une passion d'espre! (A thrill of hope!)  
Le monde fatigue se sent joyeux! (The weary world rejoices!)  
Pour casse la-bas (For yonder breaks)  
un nouvel et glorieux matin (a new and glorious morn!)  
Tomber sur vos genoux! (Fall on your knees!)  
Entendre les voix d'ange! (Oh hear the angel voices!)

_Oh Erik, I truly believe I am,_ her soul whispered as her voice tugged frantically at its leash.

O nuit celeste! (Oh night divine!)  
O nuit quand Christ etait ne! (Oh night when Christ was born!)  
O nuit celeste! (Oh night divine!)  
O nuit, nuit celeste. (Oh night, oh night divine.)

Finally, she could hide no longer and lifted her voice to join him.

Il nous a enseignes (Truly He taught us)  
pour aimer l'un l'lautre. (to love one another.)  
Sa loi est aime (His law is love)  
et l'evanglie est paix. (and the gospel is peace.)

Erik stopped singing to hear her. Oh, never in his life had he heard a voice like that. It was so high and pure and perfect. No one earthly could ever possess such a voice... or could be trained to have such! Of its own accord, his voice merged with hers in a perfect duet.

Enchaine faire Il se casse, (Chains shall He break,)  
pour l'esclave est notre frere. (for the slave is our brother.)  
Et dans Son nom (And in His name)  
tout abuser de cesser. (all oppression shall cease.)  
doux de joie (Sweet hymns of joy)  
dans choeur reconnaisant nous loue. (in grateful chorus praise we.)  
Et tout dans nous (And all within us)  
louer Son nom saint. (praise His holy name.)  
Christ est le Seigneur! (Christ is the Lord!)  
Alors jamais, jamais nous louer! (Then ever, ever praise we!)  
Noel, noel! (Noel, noel!)  
O nuit! Nuit celeste! (Oh night! Night divine!)  
Noel, noel! (Noel, noel!)

Elaine had never sung like this before in her life. The notes were much higher than she'd ever attempted. The final high C took all she had to finish. Then she fell against Erik, who'd seated himself next to her on the piano bench, her breath coming in shallow intervals. Erik's arms came around her and she felt his great chest rise.

"O la nuit sainte..." he finished softly, nearly out of breath himself. She'd nearly fainted against him and now he could hear her crying quietly into his shoulder. "Elaine?" he pulled her away so he could see her. The name fell on deaf ears, she was sound asleep, tears still trickling down her cheeks. Erik sighed and scooped her up from the bench, walking up the stairs into the wings.

They arrived in her room and he gently unpinned her hair, moving to lay her in the slack of canvas. He stood there for a moment, remembering what she looked like in the starlight. Brushing his fingers over her soft cheek, Erik felt a stirring in his soul that had long been dormant. He opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it, fearing he would wake her. Instead he took her hand and pressed a light kiss to it, the lingering scent of her perfume remaining. "Goodnight Elaine," he whispered, turning to leave. He stopped when he heard her shift and sigh contentedly. "Sweet dreams, _ma cher_," he purred as he disappeared into the walls, her sweet, angelic voice echoing in his ear.


	6. Dark Dreams and Desires

Authoress' Notes: In regards to original PotO characters:

_Roses are black _

_The lake is too _

_Me no own _

_So please no sue!  
_  
Elaine, the minor ballet rats and Gallin are mine...ALL MINE! Go make up your own:ahem: The lyrics of the two songs are also mine, AND copyrighted too! So NO STEALING! Relax. Stay cool. ENJOY.

P.S.- For the song that the pair plays think "The Point of No Return" or better yet "El Tango de Roxanne" from Moulin Rouge... kay I'll shut up now.

--

A Twist of Faith

Chapter Six: Dark Dreams and Desires

--

The large oaken door closed behind her, shaking the wall with its immense size. She entered the room, familiar as ever except for the silence. It seemed the air was made of ice, frozen and still. No laughter, no music. Nothing. There was a long form on the large bed. Elaine's young eyes knew it to be her mother. Surely she could make the silence go away.

"Mama? Why is it so quiet? Where is all the music?" She heard herself ask. Her mother turned to face her and Elaine jumped away. Her mother suddenly was deathly ill, her once rosy cheeks now paper-white and drawn. Her eyes, no longer their sweet, honey-gold color, were blank white discs of nothingness.

Then, without warning, a long, shrill scream tore the silence apart. Elaine leapt back and screamed as well. Her mother convulsed and shrieked in the bed, like her soul was trying to break free from her sick, dying body. An intense feeling of helplessness and rising panic made Elaine tremble terribly and she backed away from the bed.

:thud:

Someone standing behind her stopped her in her tracks. She turned and shrieked. A tall specter shrouded in tattered, ragged black robed loomed over her. His head was hooded and in his dead hand rested a long staff topped with a glittering blade. There was an awful, dry stench around him and the floor beneath him grew rotten and black. Lifting a skeletal hand, he reached out to her mother.

"Die," he intoned in a thick, clotted voice. A dull white form floated out of her mother's body with a lost moan.

Immediately the convulsions stopped and she lay still. The stink in the air grew more stifling. She was dead.

Elaine began to breathe hard, her terror was so great. The ghostly form drifted to the tall figure in black, disappeared into his hand, and was gone. Blood flowed around his unseen feet beneath the shroud. Then, he looked down at her, and she saw his fleshless face underneath the dark hood.

"Come..." he whispered, reaching for her with his soulless hand...

"NOO!"

--

Erik wrenched himself from his reverie and stood up. His eyes widened with sudden worry. He had been keeping watch over Elaine for the past two nights since their outing, hovering behind the paneled wall. She was always a little restless in sleep, but this was the first time she had ever cried out. He pressed himself flush against the wall, barely restraining himself from bursting through the panel to go to her.

"Elaine," he whispered fervently, "What's happened? Are you all right?" Through the crack, he saw only darkness and found it difficult for even his eyes to cut through the blackness. Soon, he could dimly make out her form on the wooden floor.

At the sound of his voice, she faced his direction and Erik could see her eyes, shimmering with unshed tears. "Erik? Is that you? Where are you?"

He could hear a hitch in her voice and he calmed his own, afraid that he had frightened her even more than she already was. "I'm here with you, cherie. What has troubled your sleep, and why did you cry out so painfully?"

"I... it was... a dream. A... Erik, I'm so scared. Please come closer to me. I need to see you."

She sounded so lost and frightened that Erik forgot his initial hesitation. He turned his lantern down to a dim glow and gently pushed the panel open. Stepping softly, he approached her and knelt down. In the soft orange light, her could see that some tears had slipped down her face. He felt the urge to reach out and wipe them away, but hesitation returned to him and he stayed his hand.

"Elaine, what is it? Why are you so upset?"

Elaine looked down and sniffled. "It was a dream; a terrible, horrible nightmare. I... oh Erik, listen to me. I'm acting like a child."

Erik frowned at this and was suddenly unafraid. He cupped her moist cheek and turned it towards him. "You most certainly are not. You are in no way childish. I think no less of you than I ever have."

"But why should anyone be so upset over a meaningless dream? It's foolish, isn't it?" Elaine looked deeply into his eyes and saw such honesty in them that she needed no answers. Her eyes brimmed with fresh tears and they overflowed onto his hand, but he did not draw away. "I'm sorry."

"I do not need you to apologize to me Elaine," he whispered, lowering his hand to rest on her shoulder. "What was it?"

"I dreamed of... when my mother died. But it was different...horrible...I'm frightened Erik!" she moaned, burying her head in her hands, shaking with repressed sobs.

Erik's heart nearly broke for his troubled angel, reached out and touched her hair. She tensed briefly then relaxed against his touch. He continued to brush through her thick curls, savoring this moment of trust. "What can I do?" he asked both to her and to himself. For a moment, Elaine just sat there in a little huddle, gazing into the darkness. Then, she turned her head swiftly, her eyes molten gold in the lantern light.

"Hold me!" she wailed hoarsely, and threw herself against him. He nearly fell back, astonished at her strength as she fell into his arms, crying full force. "Just hold me Erik! I'm so scared!"

It took him a moment to regain his immediate thoughts. She was flush against him, curling her little fingers around the lapels of his dress coat. Her skin was slick with sweat and she was shivering. In a moment, Erik drew her into his lap and draped the wing of his cloak about her, enfolding her in his arms. Gently, he began to rock her to and fro, humming a simple, soft tune.

Elaine's weeping slowed as his song floated about her, wrapping her in a blanket of secure warmth, even warmer than the silky velvet against her skin. She snuggled deeper into his strong warmth. Erik took a deep breath and stroked her soft hair, letting free a quiet sigh as the thick, silky curls yielded to his fingers. The thin material of her chemise fell loose against her back, making her seem even smaller and softer in his arms. Her breathing had slowed to a relaxed calm, and he could even hear hints of her beautiful voice in her deep even sighs. Her hair smelled sweetly of jasmine and honeysuckle mixed with her own aroma. She was so beautiful that he was having trouble with merely holding her. He fought down a surge of wanting and returned to his previous frame of mind; she was a frightened child who needed a comforting father. And that was who he needed to be this night.

"You are tired cherie. You should try to sleep," he whispered, earning a flash of gold from her frightened gaze when she locked her eyes with his.

"No!" she cried, curling against him again. "It'll come back! The dream will come back!"

"Shh... hush now..." he whispered, boldly placing his hand on her back, rubbing it in a gentle circle.

"Erik...I can't think of when I've ever been so frightened," she murmured through the last strains of tears.

"Do you think you could sleep if you were not alone?" he asked, barely recognizing the words escaping his lips. She looked up, puzzled. "But... there isn't a place for you to sleep."

"Not here. In my home; there is a bed for you and it is warmer there anyway." He took her hand gently and the lantern and led her to the panel in the wall. She seemed to favor her right foot and leaned heavily on his arm. He wrapped one arm around her slender waist, supporting her as he pushed the hidden door open and helped her through the narrow opening.

They walked slowly down a stone staircase, the air growing moist and cool around them. Elaine suddenly became acutely aware of the pain in her ankle and sagged against him, wincing in pain. Erik paused for a moment, bending down to examine her ankle. It showed very slight swelling, but he knew it could be serious. He looked up at her questionably.

"I...I must've landed on it when I fell out of the hammock," she muttered, discomfort and mild embarrassment written on her brow. Erik said nothing but took off his cloak and swirled it about her. He then began to probe her skin very gently, glancing at her for signs of pain. His fingers pressed into the swelled knob of her ankle, eliciting a cry of pain from her throat.

"It's sprained," he muttered. "You shouldn't walk on it for a while," he added and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. Elaine felt a rush of dizziness as she felt his strength holding her firmly, yet so gently. She began to feel irresistibly sleepy, and curled up closer to the wall of warmth. A low, resonant murmur rolled deep in his great chest as she slipped away into sleep.

The path soon ended at a black, coarse shore that bordered a great glassy lake. A gondola was moored near a tall rock. Erik, careful not to disturb her, laid her on the floor of the boat, resting her head on a little cushion. He untied the boat and pushed away from the shore. Cutting through the water with a long pole, he ferried them both across the lake. Twice he glanced back at her, all curled up in the cocoon of black velvet.

The lake grew shallow as they reached the other shore. He docked gently and picked her up out of the boat. Careful to keep her balanced, he drew out a key from his pocket and unlocked a large, wrought iron gate. They crossed to the inside and he turned, locking it securely. She stirred and sighed in his arms, her eyelids lifting sleepily. She glanced about her, but only caught flickers of soft light. There was the click and scrape of a door and a puff of warm, slightly fragrant air greeted their entry. Drowsiness set in again as the wall she was leaning against shifted. She felt herself being gently rocked and cuddled and sighed contentedly. Then, she was being lowered onto a bed of clouds, sinking into the fragrant pillows. A layer of silken warmth settled over her and someone gently kissed her forehead as she drifted into a dreamy, peaceful sleep.

"Goodnight Elaine. Sleep sweetly," Erik whispered, never releasing her hand as he settled into the plush chair beside her. She murmured in her sleep and he smiled as he extinguished the candle. The light guttered beneath his gentle breath and winked out, leaving him to guard her sleep.

--

Sleep receded from Elaine as morning crept into her awareness. All around her she felt warmth and softness. She opened her eyes and looked around in delighted, sleepy surprise.

The lamps on the walls glowed with hazy light, simulating morning sunlight. She felt peaceful and safe, but... where was she? This certainly wasn't her room, it was much too rich, and it was not her hammock she lay in, but a fine, downy soft bed of mahogany wood. Then she remembered; she'd had a nightmare and Erik had brought her here to sleep.

She sighed and moved to stretch her arms but could only raise one. Puzzled, she looked at the unmovable appendage and smiled. Erik sat beside her in a plush chair with his head resting on the nightstand and her hand enclosed in his. In spite of his awkward position, he looked very peaceful... and so right.

Seeing him so near to her while she lay there, his large, warm hand in hers, the beautiful room; everything seemed right and perfect. A scandalous thought entered her brain, making her wish that he were lying with her on the bed. She shook her head and shoved the thought to the back of her mind, inwardly scolding herself for such dangerous thoughts.

She must have stirred more than she thought, for she felt Erik stirring, his fingers subtly tightening around hers. A low groan issued from him and he raised his head from the little table. He rolled his head around, loosening the little kinks in his neck and looked down at her. He smiled warmly when he beheld her waking form.

"Good morning Elaine," he said, laying his other hand on her already captured hand.

"Good morning," she whispered. "Sorry I woke you up."

"You didn't entirely my dear. I was beginning to wake already."

Elaine sat up, resting her back on the headboard. "Were you sitting there all night, Erik?" He nodded. "I must apologize Erik. I must have caused you some inconvenience."

Erik smiled and shook his head. "Sweet Elaine. Are you always worried for my comfort? You'll remember it was my idea to bring you here. You could never be a bother to me," Erik's boldness trembled but did not stop his next thought. "I think I should never tire of your company."

"You'd be surprised at how easily bored you'll become with me."

"Never cherie. You are an intriguing, lovely woman, and you never cease to amaze me." He stood up, a look of solemnity crossing his brow. "It, perhaps will be you who tires of a monster's company."

Elaine sat up quickly, disbelieving what he'd just said. "You are not a monster Erik! How could you ever think such a thing?"

"Because, it is true. People have said this all my life."

"Who told you such a thing!" Erik stared at her, surprised at the furious flames in her eyes. "Who! They ought to hang!" Suddenly coming to herself, she looked up at him. Did I just say that?

"I don't know if you could possibly hang all who have... told me that. Most of them are dead anyway. But no one really had to tell me. It is something I have known all my life and-"

"Enough," She said shortly, standing up to look into his eyes, completely ignoring the pain in her foot. "I won't hear this talk Erik. Whoever told you this, or made you feel this way is the monster. You are the most caring, wonderful person I've ever known. You are my best friend. Do you know that?" He stared at her, transfixed by the intense flames in her eyes and the unquestionable honesty in her voice. He could barely nod before she reached up to cup his cheek gazing deeper into his eyes. "And I will never hear you calling yourself a monster again. Do you understand me Erik?"

The sensation of her petal skin on his cheek was nearly overwhelming for his will. He struggled not to let his tears fall. "Elaine... my face..."

"Has nothing to do with who you are..." she laid her hand over his heart, feeling its strong beat beneath her palm, "Right here. Believe me Erik."

He rewarded her with and soft, strangely sad smile. "Thank you. You are truly an angel." He stopped himself quickly before he utterly confessed his feelings, which were still somewhat uncertain. What terrible timing that would be! "Now, you must be famished. Would you like some breakfast?" A faint hollowness prodded in her stomach and a barely audible grumble issued from it. She glanced up, mild embarrassment painting her cheeks rosy pink, and sat on the bed again, laughing softly, "Now that you mention it, I did have a rather small dinner last night. Yes, thank you."

Erik returned her smile and swept out of the room, the door scraping shut behind him. Elaine stretched lazily and accidentally flexed her foot. A sharp twinge of pain snaked through her leg and she whimpered in pain. She'd completely forgotten about her injury. "Erik..."

"Elaine? Did you call me?"

Elaine glanced up surprise. Had she said his name that loud?

"Elaine?"

"Yes. Yes I'm, sorry it's...my foot..."

From behind the door, she heard him utter something foreign and the door swung open. Erik looked at her pale prone form for a moment and went to examine her injury. The foreign word escaped his lips again. Her ankle had doubled in size and the skin had gone a worrisome purple color. His expert fingers closed around her tiny foot and applied very gentle pressure to it, causing it to flex very slightly. Elaine's eyes widened to the fullest and she emitted a choked scream. Darkness clouded Erik's masked face.

"It is seriously injured. I'm sorry _cherie_, I should have tended to this last night."

"Don't apologize Erik. Both of us fell asleep. I'm sure it will heal soon."

"Not as soon as you think... not for a few weeks..."

"Oh... that is a problem. Reyer will be missing me." The momentary trouble in her eyes melted and she grinned at him. "So... how long do you estimate I'll be here?"

Erik looked up at her surprised. "You wish to stay _here?_ Elaine I don't...do you even know where you are?"

Elaine gave Erik a sly grin. "I suspect that I am in the LAIR of the OPERA GHOST himself!" She replied eerily before letting free a giggle. "Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes," he blurted out very quickly so certain in that answer at least. But what puzzled him... She wished to stay here with him in this tomb. Why? This was no place for her. The last time he'd had someone down here, it had been a disaster! But then again, Elaine was wholly different. She accepted him despite the fact that he was...the way he'd always been. Even if she hadn't seen his face, and she never would, she wanted to be around him. Anyway, it was her idea to stay, and she would need to have her injury looked after, and someone to help her rehearse. And he would have companionship, something he'd been without for years. He took a deep breath, his resolve returning.

"Yes Elaine, I do want you to stay. I'll look after you and make sure Reyer understands."

Elaine grinned and wrapped her arms about Erik's neck. "Thank you Erik. You're wonderful."

Erik blushed hotly, not only in gratitude but also in response to her body against his. He swallowed hard. This might be a little more difficult than he imagined.

At the end of a particularly good and tiring rehearsal, Elaine entered what she had deemed her room and fell upon the huge, soft bed. With care, her ankle slowly recovered, and as the days passed it grew stronger until she could fully walk on it. Still, Erik was extremely picky about what she did on it. She never objected though. She felt Erik knew best, and she loved that he cared so much for her.

She'd already spent two weeks in Erik's home and everything in her life was just wonderful. He was the perfect teacher. He was much stricter than Reyer by far and never let a mistake go uncorrected. But unlike Reyer, he never raised his voice when she faltered. The atmosphere in the room was always incredible, almost electric with a strange power. Of course, it was like this most of the time with Erik. The feelings he could stir in her couldn't be compared to the finest music.

As she mulled over this newest thought, Elaine realized two very important things. First, that she was a better player than ever in just weeks under Erik. And second that she was hopelessly in love with her tutor. He made he feel like no other. Her heart thrilled when he vocalized the patterns of the notes she was to play, or reached over to position her fingers correctly, or patted her gently on the back when she finished a perfect phrase. His hands were supremely gentle and caring when he tended her ankle and Elaine couldn't get enough of them. She never asked about his mask and found she didn't really care about what lay beneath it. It just never seemed to find its way into any conversations. It was a secret she was content with not knowing of. Still, Erik remained nervous around her when her hand strayed too closely to it. She only prayed that he would believe that it didn't matter to her.

Little did she know what it would take to prove it.

--

What will become of Erik? What will become of Elaine? What will become of my story? I need reviews please! Ahhh, it's good to be back!


	7. The Holly and the Ivy

Authoress Notes: Hey peeps! Sorry I couldn't get this one out as fast! The moment of truth, so strap yaselvz in!

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anything but OCs, and you know who they are! ALW and Leroux own the original stuff!

_Thoughts _

_--_

A Twist of Faith

Chapter Seven: The Holly and the Ivy

--

It was now Christmas Eve and the snow was falling thickly. Wisely, the pair had resolved to remain inside all day anyway. Miraculously Erik had managed to procure a nicely sized tree and set it up in the corner by the organ. Its rich forest scent made it all the more festive in the candlelit house. They planned to decorate it together after Elaine's rehearsal.

As she tuned her violin, the ethereal tones of the organ vibrated through the fire-warmed air. She lifted her dark head and smiled at her teacher. He was dressed in a thick wine-colored smoking jacket with the pristine white dress shirt underneath it. His eyes were fastened on the ivory keyboard as he coaxed the music out like a conjuror. By the gods, he was so beautiful. Her eyes wavered from him for a moment and fell on a huge manuscript on a shelf above his head.

"What's that?" Elaine asked.

"What cherie?" Erik replied, looking up from the organ. His eyes fastened on her for a long while. She was dressed in a simple white dress and a green cloak but she carried it like an empress. Her raven hair poured down freely. He held back a wistful sigh and sank into reverie. It had been a marvelous two weeks since Elaine had stayed here with him. They did everything together; playing music, singing, reading in the parlour, walking the streets hand in hand from broad daylight to darkest night. One might think to look at them as sweethearts, but sadly Erik knew better. No matter what he wanted, they were only friends. How could it be anything else? Why should a sweet, innocent, intelligent, gorgeous woman such as herself even consider loving an old, misshapen catacombs-dweller? Well, at least with Elaine there were no false pretenses. She had proved that she stayed because she truly wanted too, though it still baffled him to no end.

"That big book up there," she said pointing, her voice bringing him out of his musings. He followed her golden gaze to the manuscript and smiled secretly. Darkness passed over his brow, but he still smiled.

"Oh that. That is 'Don Juan Triumphant', my opera."

Elaine's eyes lit up. "You wrote an opera? My goodness it must have taken a long time."

"Most of my life had been spent on the idea for it, but it took six months to compose," he said, reverently taking down the binder "For half a year this consumed my soul and allowed nothing else in." He spoke with such passion that it drew in her vast curiosity. She sat beside him on the velvet bench.

"Will... will you sing something from it? I'd love to hear it."

Erik frowned a little. "I'm not sure Elaine. You might not like it, it's... quite carnal."

"I gathered that from the title," she said with a wry smile. "But if you don't want to sing the lyrics you don't have to."

"No, do not misunderstand me. I want to but..." He trailed off, gazing at the eagerness in her eyes, falling into her lovely smile. He couldn't refuse her. But just to be safe, he would choose one of the gentler pieces: when Don Juan first lay his wandering eyes on the lovely Aminita.

"_He said your name...Aminita... _

Have I fallen?

_Can it be? _

_Are you the next _

_To come to me? _

Will I take you?

_For you've taken me _

_Could you dare _

_To be with me?"  
_  
Erik played with a tender sensuality that did not escape Elaine. He was fast becoming impassioned. She too began to feel the effects of the risqué words and driving music. She could feel Don Juan's lust and see through his eyes how desirable the one before him was, because the person before her eyes was the very same; all-consumingly desirable.

_"I see the future _

_Brief yet very sweet _

_I feel you with me _

_And we have yet to meet." _

"_Oh Aminita..."  
_  
Elaine shivered violently when Erik whispered the girl's name. Such a sinfully beautiful voice. She also couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy towards whoever she was. It was obvious that he'd composed this opera for a certain person.

_"Turn your eyes to me _

_I can see your soul _

_On that purest innocence _

_Passion takes its toll _

"Sweet miss,

_Faraway treasure _

_Come to me _

_To find your pleasure  
_

"_You will fall _

_My dear, you'll see _

_You are the next _

_To be with me."  
_  
With a sigh, Elaine slumped against Erik's shoulder. She was finding it hard to catch her breath in the wake of such a wonderful song. Erik slowly turned her to face him, mild worry etched onto the visible side of his face.

"Well, did you...like it?" He asked. She lifted her head and smiled. Erik's eyes widened, taking in her flushed skin and reddened eyes. "You're...crying..."

Elaine sniffed and found her energy again. "I am?" She swiped at her eyes and found them wet. She let out a quiet laugh. "I am. It was so beautiful Erik. I've never heard music like that. Wonderful!" She exclaimed, jumping up. "Is there an instrumental we can play together?"

Erik let free a sigh of relief, thankful that she hadn't become aroused as he had. He would die before seducing her with his music. "Yes, there is. Let me see," he began flipping through the pages and stopped at a barely legible section. He wondered briefly if she would be able to read it.

Elaine took up her instrument and tuned it. Her eyes traversed the red inked page. The piece was in a minor key and looked very rhythmic. Erik played a short introduction and immediately the two began playing in perfect unison. Erik was in rapture. She had only glanced at the page once and she already played like she'd written it. Never did she miss a single note in her rapt concentration. Her technique was exquisite.

At the same time, he saw that she recognized the sexuality in the music. She rocked on her feet in harmonic rhythm to the stroke of her bow. Her cheeks grew rosy pink as the tempo began to change to nearly ecstatic. Erik loved this point in the music. It was hard and driving, mildly reminiscent of the tango. He concentrated fully on the music and felt its power immediately take hold of him. Everything around him faded until all he was aware of was the deep, dancing tones of the organ and the sudden exciting phrases of the violin. It had been so long since he'd heard another instrument play his music and he was amazed at how perfect it sounded. Had he really been alone for so long?

All too soon, the song ended. Elaine looked blissfully tired and again sank down next to Erik. Her breathing was deep and heavy and her eyes opened to let free many tears. Still she smiled and lovingly patted the wood of her violin.

"My papa always wanted this...to make such music. That was amazing Erik." She looked at her hands and glanced up at Erik's face. "I'm shaking."

"Are you cold?" He asked, taking her hand. He could feel her pulse thundering beneath her warm skin. No she most certainly wasn't cold.

"I'm just a little overwhelmed. Erik...to have written that music, and then share it with me...you are wonderful," she whispered gently touching his cheek. He felt his skin flush with heat under the touch of her hand. Still very aroused, he fought to keep his control as she lingered on his skin. Finally he turned away to face the organ again. Elaine looked at him questioningly.

"I think that counts as enough practice for one day. I wonder if you would mind something different."

"And what is that?"

"Will you...sing for me?"

Elaine smiled softly and stood up. "Of course. Sing what?"

"Actually a piece from my opera," he said, turning to a page. Elaine's eyes widened when she saw how high it was.

"An aria? I don't know Erik...do you think I can?"

Erik turned earnest eyes on her and smiled. "Cherie, if you wanted to touch a star, I believe you could. You can do anything. Sing for me."

Elaine smiled, and receiving his blessing, took a deep breath.

_"I feel your eyes on me _

_They sweep over me like a breeze _

_The touch of so many blind fingers _

_Caused my heart's blood to freeze _

"_Yet your kiss of fire _

_That can melt a winter heart _

_It stirs up new feelings inside me _

_And it tears my soul apart."  
_  
Elaine had never sung like this before in her life. The song was so sensual and dangerously beautiful. With no conscious thought, she began to assume the role of Aminita, once the innocent, but now stained with a sinful love. Her hands pushed through her thick hair and ran down the curves of her body as she felt her libido responding fiercely to the passion in the music.

_"What yields my heart to you? _

_What placed it in your careless hands? _

_What did I see that took me, _

_And bound me up in passion's bands?"  
_  
Yet she knew the passion was not only in the music, but also in her own body and soul. Her breasts felt firm and heavy and she did not miss the pulse of heat between her thighs. A feeling stronger than love welled up in her heart for the man playing the organ, who was now rocking to and fro in a primal rhythm. Seeing the man she loved in such a state awoke a realization in her mind; she wanted him. She wanted his love, his body, his heart, all of him.

_"I see the road of destiny _

_So take my hand and guide my soul _

_Balance my innocence with your shadows _

_Share your passion, make me whole"_

Erik was lost in his music, drunk on the power of her perfect voice. It filled his every fiber, sending waves of pleasure through him. Hot blood pounded throughout his body in increasing fury. He was aware of very little besides Elaine's incredible voice surrounding him and the familiar constriction in his loins. He felt hot and cold all at once and knew what was happening. The song must end soon or he would pass the point of no return, taking his beloved Elaine with him.

_"I'll be the candle in your night _

_If you'll be the dark side of the moon _

_Now my winter heart beats with fire _

_And my time to love is coming soon. _

"_My Don Juan!"  
_  
Finally, the aria ended in a last burst of ecstasy as Elaine poured all she had into the high C sharp against the dissonance of the pipe organ. There was a long moment of intense silence, broken only by the sound of harsh breathing. When finally she could stand no more, she groaned and let her quivering legs give way. Erik cried out and rushed to her side.

"Elaine! Are you all right? Elaine!" He asked frantically, reaching out to touch her, but suddenly pulled back, sensing what the feeling of her skin might do to him in his state. By the gods he'd never been so aroused in his life! He had to get away!

No, he had to get Elaine away.

She gulped in a breath of air and heaved it out again. "I'm- I'm fine Erik. I'm...just a little..." Aroused, she finished her sentence in her mind, feeling quite certain that Erik could hear the loud thunder of her heart.

But maybe that was his heart. One look at him would tell you that the song had just as strong an effect on him as it had on her. The visible side of his face was reddened and shone with sweat. His barreled chest heaved up and down almost in time with hers. The great weight in her breasts returned and her head suddenly grew dizzy. She leaned forward into his chest, but he got up quickly and turned away from her. "Erik?"

"Elaine...you must get out of here right away," he croaked, an evident strain in his voice.

"What do you mean? Why?" she asked perplexed as her body returned to normal.

"I fear you might not be safe...around me."

Elaine almost laughed. "What are you talking about? What could..."

"Elaine! I fear you are not taking me seriously!" he said, disgusted with the black thoughts he was having about her. She was his best friend, his only friend. He couldn't allow her to be destroyed by his desire. Damn his feelings, he had to keep her safe. "I want you to go and not return to me. Ever." He could barely get these words out before tears overtook him and he retreated to his room.

"Erik!" She called and went to follow him. He turned on her, angry fire in his eyes. She gasped and took a step away.

"Don't Elaine! Just GET OUT!" He roared, running into his room and slamming the door.

"ERIK!"

"NOW!"

For a long while, all was silence. A mixture of grief and relief washed over Erik. It seemed his last display of anger had caused her to take him seriously. Tears ran in torrents down his cheeks. He'd lost her now, and he regretted it with all of his heart. Why did this have to happen? Why did she insist on hearing his cursed music?

No, it wasn't her fault. It was his. He could have told her of his feelings if he hadn't been such a wretched coward. He could have been happy. But now Elaine, the love of his heart, was lost to him for good.

Nothing in the house seemed to move for many minutes. Then a sound shattered the silence. It was soft and broken like a sob. That's what Erik thought it was for a moment. He could picture Elaine's golden eyes full of tears because of him and that image pained his heart. After a moment, he then realized that the sound was no sob; it was a violin. Elaine hadn't left, and she was playing for him. The tune was foreign and yet familiar to him. The dancing, soaring phrases swirled around him, cooling the ire in his heart. The song called out to him and he pressed against the door, his hand reaching for the knob. Suddenly, his head cleared and he stepped back. It seemed that she knew how her music affected him. Much like his did her. She was trying to draw him out with her music. He steeled his mind against it, determined not to let it happen.

In response to his denial, the song became a little softer. Erik strained his ears to hear it, but the heavy door snuffed it out. Perhaps if he opened the door a little bit, he could make out the tune. He pushed the door open a crack and the music washed over him again. He felt like he could drown in its depths of sound. _Never stop. Never, ever stop…_

Then as before, the music softened. Frustration burned inside him; the music was fading. Soon it would disappear. A growing need to be near the hypnotic tune overcame him and he returned trance-like to the study.

Elaine sat on the floor where he left her, her white gown pooling around her, spinning a Gypsy dance from the golden strings of her instrument. She didn't look up, only continued to lovingly draw the bow. Erik's dream-like state allowed him few thoughts but on how beautiful she looked…how much he loved her.

"I'm glad you came back," she whispered, slightly lifting the spell of music from him. Erik blinked as the waking part of his mind tried to figure out how he arrived in the study. He looked at Elaine in disbelief.

"I…I thought I told you to leave," he said, the trance he was in disappearing more rapidly.

"You did," she answered, pulling the bow across the strings in a sweet finish. She placed the violin on the organ bench and turned her head to face him. "I can't."

With the utterance of those words, the spell shattered. He found the anger the music hadn't quelled and felt it rise in his chest.

"What do you mean you can't?" He spat. "You are not my prisoner! I order you to go!" He commanded and lashed his pointed finger towards the door.

Elaine stood up slowly, her thick hair pouring over her face. Her arms were pressed firmly to her sides and Erik could see her tiny fists tremble by her hips. She seemed to be fighting panic and the sight nearly broke him. Her lips quivered and from them issued a strangled whisper. "If I am not your prisoner, you can't order me about," she struggled to keep her voice steady. "I won't go Erik. My heart won't let me."

"What beautiful poetry. Please tell me more," he drawled sarcastically. "Your _pity_ won't let you leave! Well I don't need your pity!"

Elaine's foot came down with a loud slap that resounded throughout the house. Her head snapped up, throwing her long tresses back in a flurry. "I do not PITY you Erik! Surely you don't think so little of me!" Her eyes blazed from her pale face with a fury of emotions. Erik could only stand shocked out of his rage by her sudden tempestuous beauty.

"I don't know what to think," he struggled in frustration. "All I know is that you cannot stay here. You are not safe! Please go!"

"Erik-"

"Don't say you _can't_ one more time! Or-"

"Or _what_?" she snapped, leaving him dumbstruck again. "You'll throw me out? Strike me?" She asked, tears skating sown her face. "Well GO AHEAD!" She thrust her arms open wide, leaving her vulnerable. "I've dealt with being struck before and I can do it again!"

Erik's heart bled that she would even consider him doing such a thing to her. He took a step forward, his hands longing to touch her. "Elaine, no… No, I would never hurt you…"

"You say that Erik. But you don't know what you're doing now, do you?" She said, her demeanor growing softer. "What do you think you're doing if not hurting me in the worst way?"

"Elaine…" His voice trembled. If what she was saying was true…

No! He couldn't let this happen! A soft moan escaped him, rising into a low growl of frustration and renewed anger. "Must I MAKE you leave!" He shouted and ripped his mask away from his face, tearing the ribbons that held it in place. With a grunt, he hurled it to the floor at her feet where it shattered. She cried out in surprise and jumped back, tripping over the corner of the rug as she did. Landing rather gracelessly, she whimpered as a chunk of ceramic sank into her thigh. Erik heard her and, realizing she had not yet seen, dropped to his knees. "Look Elaine. _This_ is why I cannot let you stay," he hissed rather painfully. _This is why you could never love me_. "Look."

She did not look up. "Is this what you want? Do you wish for me to see?"

Erik swallowed hard past the stone in his throat and screwed his eyes shut. "Yes. Goodbye Elaine."

Wondering what deformity he'd unveiled, Elaine forced her eyes upward. They went as wide as plates and she felt the color draining from her already pale face.

The marred skin was discolored with deep scars running over the entire right cheek, as if someone had dug their fingers into the flesh. The eye of stormy silver rested in a sunken socket, the delicate skin around it dark violet from lack of sleep and excess of tears. His nose looked like it had been smashed in a fight. The skin covering his jaw barely covered it at all and seemed stretched too tight over the bone. He was ugly.

Her expression softened as the love in her heart swelled to an even greater intensity. Her gaze returned to his closed eyes. She saw them quiver behind the lids and suddenly felt a deep longing to fall into his strange eyes. Slowly she lifted her hand to touch his ruined cheek.

Erik's eyes flew open when he felt the gentle pressure of her hand across his ravaged skin. Immediately he focused on her eyes and was lost. He saw no pity, fear or revulsion at all in those bright pools, only deep compassion and understanding. Softly, she drew her fingers along the deep scars, as if her touch could somehow close them up and make him whole.

"What… are you doing?" he croaked in a ragged voice. Two big tears slipped free from his eyes and he watched as two similarly fell from hers.

"I'm trying to understand…why you ever thought I would leave you…because of your face."

Erik's entire body began to shiver intensely. "How…how can you bear to touch me…to look on this…loathsome thing?"

"You are not loathsome; you are beautiful. Everything about you is wonderful. Your face… it's just another part of you. You wear a mask to hide behind, but a face is also a mask. But even that cannot hide the true Erik. He is the most lovely of God's creations. Erik…" she smiled, a new light shining in her eyes as she ran her hands through his soft sunset hair. "I'm still not leaving you."

At the close of her words, the dam exploded. With a shuddering cry, he crumpled to the floor at her feet. "Elaine! My dearest Elaine! Forgive me! _Mon ange, mon luminat_, forgive me!" His voice cracked and he buried his face in his hands, weeping bitterly. Elaine drew him into her arms, holding his head to her bosom as he clung to her desperately. "I'm so sorry Elaine, so sorry."

"Shh, hush now Erik. No more tears please," she murmured, gently stroking his silken hair.

"How could I be so idiotic to treat you like that? I'm sorry! Please say you forgive me!" he begged, unwittingly grasping the material of her satin dress.

"Oh Erik, you know I forgive you. How could I not? Hush now, dear. Don't cry."

"Sweet Elaine…did you… mean what you said?" He asked urgently, hoping for the world there was a chance she felt the same as he. "Would it hurt you to be away from me?"

"Yes Erik, it would. Life without you wouldn't be worth living. Truly, I would like nothing better to spend every moment with you. You are sweet and wonderful and…and…Erik," she trailed off for a moment. Slowly, he lifted his head up to look into her eyes. They shone brightly as she placed her hand on his cheek. Her cheeks burned but she felt no fear or shame at all. Not idly did she say her next three words and she meant it with every fiber of her being. "I love you."

Erik's jaw fell open and his eyes widened in wonder, awe etched on his brow. He truly hadn't expected that. His mouth opened and closed dumbly for a moment and then regained its function. "Elaine…you… love me?"

"Yes I do Erik. I have for a long time. I'm just sorry it took so long to say," she whispered, gently caressing his face with both hands. A tremble went through his body and a tear traveled the clefts of his scars. Elaine's smile softened as she smoothed a stray lock of his hair back. Then, all tension in his body shattered and he breathed a huge sigh of relief, leaning forward to enfold her in his arms. His heart leapt when she returned the embrace, her arms looping around his neck. She could never feel warmer or safer than she did now, finally in the arms of the man she loved.

"I tried to send you away. I was afraid of myself. I was a fool," he breathed in a velvet voice, burying his face into her thick, silky, raven-black curls.

"Shh, Erik, shh. No more. Don't call yourself a fool."

"No Elaine. I am a fool." Slowly, he drew back, not loosening his hold on her. He gazed into her eyes for a long time, loving the feeling of falling deeply into them. Then a beautiful smile graced his lips. His right hand pressed into the small of her back, subtly bringing her closer. "But, I am a fool who loves you more than life itself." There was liquid fire in his mismatched orbs and Elaine could feel the air tingle around them. Blindly, her hands returned to his face and bestowed their feathery caresses again. She felt as if her soul had left her body and had been replaced by an ethereal spirit made of warmth and light and love.

Erik was completely mesmerized by the pure emotion in her eyes. All their softness had been set ablaze by a love and passion he had never seen before. He felt drawn to those golden flames like a helpless moth to a candle. His hands trembled as he laid them over hers, so gently as if he were afraid she might disappear. The fair, warm skin beneath his palm made every nerve in his body quiver. When he realized that she was not going to pull away, he grew bold and gently trailed his hands along her arms to her back. Her eyelids drooped lazily as one falling into slumber. The room dipped and swam before his eyes, and before either of them could form their next thought, their lips met.

Elaine's eyes widened as his silken smooth lips closed over hers. His warm, gentle hands holding her pulled her closer to him. She closed her eyes to savor all these feelings she was discovering. His tongue slid along her lower lip, teasing, tasting and entreating entry all at once. She drew him into her with a long gasp; he was hot, wet velvet in her mouth. Humming into his mouth, she slid her hands to the nape of his neck and pulled him even closer, the love for him swelling under the weight of this earth-shattering kiss.

Erik could never have imagined a more heavenly moment. She was exquisite perfection; warm, sweet, soft and passionate. He felt her tiny teeth graze his lower lip and he let free a moan of pleasure. She slid her tongue against his, exploring his mouth. Lowering his arms a little, he wrapped them more tightly around her tiny waist and gracefully stood. A moan escaping her filled his mouth as her feet left the ground and he groaned, further deepening the kiss. He crushed her body to his, relishing her warmth and softness, evident to him through the thin soft material of her dress. She shifted the position of her mouth and let her lips caress his. This time Erik's eyes widened. He'd never felt a kiss like this before. It was perfect.

Reluctantly, the pair realized that they needed oxygen. He set her back on her feet, not letting her out of his embrace. Their lips clung together for a long moment and parted with a soft sound. Elaine's eyes opened sluggishly and a drunken smile turned up one corner of her mouth. With a small grin, Erik tapped the tip of her nose with his. She giggled with delight and he answered her with an almost giddy chuckle.

"Erik?" She murmured, placing a tiny kiss on his lips.

"Hm?" He answered returning the kiss quickly. She nuzzled her nose against his, resisting the temptation to go in for another kiss before she opened her mouth to speak.

"Did I mention that I love you?" she asked breathlessly.

He laughed softly, gazing in rapture at the joy and love in her eyes. "Yes _cherie_, I believe you said something along those lines."

"Good!" She grinned and threw her arms around his neck. "Then you won't mind if I say it again! I LOVE YOU ERIK!"

"_Ma cherie amour_!" he returned with a loud laugh. Lifting her from the ground, he spun them in full joyous circles all about the room. Their laughter mingled in perfect harmony and echoed throughout the cellars of the Opera House.

A few minutes later, they sat exhausted by the fire. Erik held Elaine closely to his side. Elaine's fingers were tightly intertwined with his, massaging her thumb over his porcelain flesh. Erik's skin thrilled at her touch and he pressed his hand into the curve of her hip. The fire popped and flickered in the hearth, wrapping the pair in an embrace of gentle warmth.

The tall grandfather clock in the corner struck midnight. Deep resounding notes from its core echoed throughout the house.

"Merry Christmas Elaine," Erik murmured kissing the top of her head.

"Merry Christmas my dear," Elaine answered, her voice almost cut off as she yawned behind her hand. Erik smiled.

"Tired love?" He asked, brushing her hair through his fingers. She looked up at him, her eyes sleepy as she nodded. Without a word, Erik scooped her up and cradled her close, treading gently down the hall to her room. He laid her gently on the soft mattress. She stretched her arms over her head and yawned again as her love drew the down comforter over her body. Erik leaned down and stroked one thick, spiraled curl of her hair. Elaine smiled blissfully and sank into the pillow a little more.

"Sleep now love," Erik whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. "Tomorrow will be a Christmas long remembered."


	8. Christmas Time is Here

Authoress Notes: Hey readers! Glad I could get this one out fast! This is another longy, so strap yaselvz in!

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anything but OCs, and you know who they are! ALW and Leroux own the original stuff! By the way, I know this isn't a songfic, but there's a beautiful Christmas song I want to use, compliments of the fantastic Kathy Troccoli. I tweaked a few lyrics, but I HIGHLY recommend this song.

WARNING: This chapter's rating steps up a notch. Character Death! I know you all _love_ this character, but it's time for someone to bite it! Sexual situation and as I've said, DEATH…

--

A Twist of Faith

Chapter Eight: Christmastime is Here…Happiness and…Fear

--

"Bravi!"

"Bravissimi!"

"Encore!"

"Brava!"

Elaine's face flushed as the audience thundered with applause over the final movement of "Les Chansons de Bethléem." Reyer's idea to perform a medley of Christmas arias and orchestrations had gone over very well. Even M. Firmin and Andre, who'd been very skeptical at first, were forced to admit it was a crowd pleaser…and a box-office success. Each of the first chairs in the orchestra had a solo and Genevieve performed angelically. The two managers ascended the staircase and took their respective bows.

"_Dames et messieurs_, many thanks to all of you for choosing to join us this evening," Andre said with a less nervous smile than was his custom. He seemed genuinely pleased with the night. "We would like to acknowledge our Prima Donna, Mlle. Genevieve Fauntelle." Genevieve appeared from the wings, looking very pretty in her long green gown. She walked to the center of the stage and curtseyed deeply. Firmin straightened his waistcoat, his twitching moustache curling into a smile.

"We would also like to acknowledge our chief repetiteur, and our maestro, M. Reyer," he announced, gesturing open-palmed to Reyer in the pit. Reyer stepped up from his conductor's stand and took a bow to the applause of the audience. He gave a polite smile and gestured to the orchestra.

"_Violiniste_!"

An answering chorus of similar calls followed and Reyer looked at Elaine. He beamed at her and motioned for her to stand. "Mlle. Elaine Tourouse!" He said with pride.

Elaine stood, slowly and modestly and pressed her hand over her heart as she gracefully took a curtseying bow. More shouts and cheers erupted and she felt her face burning hotter. She cast her eyes up to Box 5, her heart leaping when she saw Erik's regal form standing, appreciation and love evident on his face. She smiled radiantly and took another bow before she sat again.

"And now ladies and gentlemen, we invite you for a reception in the grand ballroom," Andre said, pointing towards the exit into the ballroom. "Once again, we thank you for your patronage and _Joyeux Noël_!"

Collected murmurs rose from the house as patrons began standing, gathering their belongings, and made their way to the reception. Elaine smiled. A part of her wanted to go, but the larger part knew that Erik would not enjoy it. Anyway, she would much rather spend Christmas with him rather than those stuck up rich folks she played for. She gathered up her music and placed her violin gently into its case. She made her way to the stairs leading up from the pit.

"Aren't you coming mam'selle?"

Reyer's voice startled her and she turned, a little guilty about getting caught trying to sneak off.

"I'm sorry M'sieur, but I've a previous engagement," she answered.

"You were a sensation tonight Elaine," He reminded her. "The patrons will want to meet you."

She dropped her head, wishing professional courtesy wasn't so important to those damn managers. "I know. Please m'sieur. Tell them whatever you like, but this is not something I can forsake."

Reyer eyed her for a moment. Absolute pleading radiated from her golden-brown eyes. Finally, he smiled. "Very well mam'selle. _Joyeux Noël_, and thank you for a perfect performance."

Elaine beamed. "Oh, thank you M. Reyer. And merry Christmas to you to," She replied as she turned to ascend the stairs.

"And tell Erik I said the same to him as well."

Elaine froze. Did he just say what she thought he did? "I-I-I'm sure I don't know what you mean…"

"Come now Elaine. I've known for a long time that Erik is alive. Even before M. Gallin's…accident. Tell me, how is he?"

She said nothing for a minute, trying to understand where he was coming from, and trying to figure out what to say. "He's…he's well. He's been my tutor for the past few weeks." She admitted, figuring he already knew.

"Yes, I suspected as much. Your technique is more exquisite than ever. I do not doubt that he is a great teacher, but please mam'selle, I advise you not to—"

"Follow him into his lair?" she finished for him. Reyer started. Dumbly, he nodded. "I've been there m'sieur. You see, I injured myself not long ago, and he took me with him to care for me. I know many think that he is fearsome and dangerous, but I assure you, he is truly good and kind."

Reyer nodded solemnly. "I'm sure he is… I only told you that because a few years ago there was a chorus girl he trained. Things did not turn out well."

Elaine smiled softly. "Yes, I know all about her. You see, however, there is a distinct difference between her and me. She did not love Erik. I do."

Reyer's eyes flew wide. He was not a superficial man, but he never thought he'd ever hear an admission like that. He searched her face for the vacancy he saw in the last woman Erik had chosen, but all he saw was the same brightness he'd always seen in Elaine's eyes. It seemed that she truly meant what she said. A smile of relief spread over his face. "Don't keep him waiting Elaine. From what I understand, he's waited far too long already."

"I won't. And thank you again," she said and quickly went up the stairs, disappearing into the wings.

Reyer gazed around the vacant theater. Programs and handkerchiefs lay strewn on the thick red carpeting. The aftermath of every performance. He smiled secretly and gathered his music from his stand. "Bravi, Erik," he whispered to no one. "You are a lucky man, and you certainly deserve her."

--

Elaine opened the door to her dressing room, greeted immediately by the fresh scent of flowers. She grinned at the sight of the small room stuffed with bouquets of multi-colored flower arrangements. One from Claude, the lead baritone, another from Monte, a stagehand, and the second within the week from Vincent, the Italian tenor the manager had hired earlier that month. Her eyes flew habitually to the two intertwined roses sitting atop her vanity: one dark red, the other pure white. She plucked them up and breathed in their sweet, romantic scent. A black ribbon held them together and fastened a simple white card to the knot. She smiled and pick it up, opening the brittle wax seal. Withdrawing the card, her eyes prickled with happy tears as she read over the red script.

_Ma chere lumière,_

_You were the best and brightest star this night. I saw no mere woman holding a violin, but an angel cradling a heavenly instrument. You were incredible. I look forward to spending this holy night with you. Until tonight, my love._

_Eternally,_

_Your Erik_

Elaine swiped her eyes and held the precious card to her breast. She expelled a dreamy sigh and sat heavily in her vanity chair. Laying the card down, she pulled out the pins from her hair and began brushing the long silky curls. She smiled when she thought of the little Christmas gift she'd bought for herself the other day. Wisely, she'd thought to keep it in her armoire here instead of bringing it into her room beneath the opera house. She gazed into her own eyes, letting her thoughts drift in the molten gold orbs as she deftly swept her hair into a soft style. She knew the way to the Rue Scribe that led to Erik's home. She didn't know if she could make it across the lake in the boat by herself.

--

Erik's long fingers drummed feverishly on the arms of his armchair. He tugged at the cuffs of the sleeves of his fine suit. Although he always applauded style and good taste, he sometimes cursed the man who created bow ties. Swallowing hard, he hooked a finger into his collar and ran it around his throat, trying to relieve it of the constricting fabric. Perhaps he'd made the fire a little too strong. He'd never been so nervous in his whole life.

The night before felt like a dream; after he'd almost turned out the woman he loved, she'd struck him dumb by revealing her own affection for him. Never in a million years did he ever expect anyone to love him. He thought he'd missed his chance two years ago. Then along skips this incredible, beautiful woman and hope comes alive in his heart once again. And, last night… last night, it really happened.

Now what?

Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself out of the chair and began pacing like a tiger over the plush carpet. Clenching and releasing his fists, he began turning various scenarios over in his head.

What if he said something out of turn, or foolish?

What if he couldn't say anything?

Worse, what if she didn't really feel as strongly as he did?

Worse yet, what if she didn't love him at all?

What if it was only pity that fueled her to stay with him?

"Erik?"

The soft voice behind him nearly caused him to jump out of his skin. As he turned, the vision before him nearly caused him to melt into the floor.

The ethereal being walked--almost floated--into the parlor and Erik found it hard to believe the angel approaching him was actually his Elaine. She was dressed in a crimson gown of crushed velvet, the gold embroidery on the sweetheart neckline revealing a modest amount of her shoulders and the cleft of her breasts. The waistline embraced her tiny waist, the stitching forming a deep V that drew the eyes down the length of the full skirt. Her lovely arms were covered with the rich fabric, the sleeves flaring at her wrists decorously with an eye-catching embroidered design that matched the neckline. She glided past the little fur tree lit with small tapers and cast a pleased glance at it, a look of purity and wonder on her beautiful face. As she stopped to deposit her gift and violin case, the upswept curls of her raven hair caught the soft candlelight in a most alluring way. When she stood and turned to him, she smiled radiantly, and Erik's knees buckled. He dropped down to one knee before her. She reached down to him mildly concerned, and when he grasped her hand in his, she knew the reason behind his fall.

"My love…my dearest…you are so beautiful," he breathed huskily, pressing a kiss to the top of her tiny hand. She smiled wider and turned her hand a little, gently caressing the unmasked side of his face.

"As are you, Erik," she said softly. "Just one more thing…" she trailed off, her gentle hand reaching behind his head for the ribbons holding his mask. Out of habit, his hand caught hers and he turned pleading eyes up to her.

"No _ma lumière_," he beseeched. "You are so lovely…too lovely to sully with this face."

"Erik, I don't want this mask on your face." She lowered herself to the floor so she was level with him, her amber eyes tender and warm. "Understand dear, I know it will take time for you to truly realize that I am not bothered by what you look like, but you never will unless you let me see you," She explained, tenderly stroking his face as she pressed her forehead against his.

He closed his eyes tightly, willing the tears back. He knew she was right, that she cared not what lay behind his mask. She only cared for the _man_ behind the mask. He released her hand and let his arms fall. She reached behind him and pulled the ribbon end, her other hand over the mask so it wouldn't fall. When the ties were undone, she pulled the mask away and laid it off to the side. Noticing he didn't look at her, she dipped her head a little and met his eyes. He searched them for any sign of discomfort and found none. Heaving out a loud breath, he swept her into his arms and embraced her. She folded her soft arms around him and kissed his ruined cheek lingeringly. He brought her to stand with him and pointed up to the ceiling. She looked up and laughed.

Every few feet, Erik had fastened sprigs of mistletoe to the ceiling. Elaine's head fell back with laughter, silenced only when he placed his hands on her face and gently pulled her into a beautiful kiss. They stood under the canopy of mistletoe, sharing love and breath in their kisses.

Erik pulled away and laid his head atop hers, careful not to disturb her piled black curls. "Well, sweet lady, I would love to hold you like this for the rest of the night, but then those presents beneath the tree would be of no use."

"Oh yes, I almost forgot," she grinned, releasing him. She sat on the plush ottoman before the glowing tree and retrieved a flat package wrapped in green foil paper. She extended it to Erik with the glee of a child. He sat and kissed her softly.

"If you don't mind my love, I'd like to give you yours first," he requested and reached for a small box wrapped in a piece of black silk with a red satin ribbon tied at the top. Elaine grinned at him playfully.

"You're spoiling me Erik. Whatever will I do with you?" She said and set the package before him, taking the little gift from him.

"Love me?" he suggested, sitting on the couch. She laughed musically.

"That is easily done," she answered, rising to place a sweet kiss on his lips. He smiled and kissed her forehead in return. Finally, she turned her attention to her present. The ribbon came undone swiftly and the silk fell away with a whisper. In her hand lay a wooden box. It was a deep mahogany color and on the lid was a perfect rendition of an opening rose done in dark cherry wood, inlaid in ebony setting with oak stained green for the stem and leaves. "Oh, Erik…it's so beautiful. Where…where did you get this?"

He smiled and blushed a little. "Actually, when I was a boy, I learned Italian inlaying techniques under a great master's tutelage."

"It's amazing. Thank you so much."

"Oh that isn't all. Open it," he encouraged. She gave him a questioning look, wondering what could be inside. Carefully, she undid the little gold latch and opened the lid.

Suddenly, a clicking sound was heard from deep within it. When the top was fully open, sweet, tinkling notes began dancing from the little chimes inside it. She gasped quietly as she recognized the song.

It played "Jacqueline," her mother's song.

Tears immediately filled her eyes and spilled out onto her cheeks. Erik watched the wet tracks run down her face and tilted her face up, dreading to see any kind of anguish in her eyes.

Relief filled him fully as she smiled genuinely at him, her lips shivering a little. Before he could ask, she laid her hand on his scarred cheek and drew his face to his in a long, slow kiss. He closed his eyes and petted the soft fabric covering her back, tasting her tears in their kiss. When they drew apart, she pressed a quick kiss to his lips in reassurance. "I can't believe that you did this for me. It's all so wonderful. Thank you my sweet Erik."

A smile spread his full lips and he stroked the tears away from her skin. "It rewinds every time you close it," he added. She laughed at the intricacy of the detail and laid the musical box beneath the tree, letting its song continue as she rose up to sit next to him on the couch.

"You are wonderful Erik. Thank you so much." She snatched up the gift she'd attempted to give him before and presented it to him. "Now, I believe this is for you."

He accepted her gift with a smile and laid it in his lap. Slowly, he unwound the string from around the fastener and opened the flap of paper. He reached in a pulled out a stack of two papers. On the thick music parchment, penned in Elaine's elegant writing, were delicate notes placed on perfectly made bars and measures. He sounded them out in his mind for a moment, hearing in his mind what it might sound like.

"If you like, I can play it for you," she said eagerly. He smiled knowingly at her.

"Something tells me you're going to do so anyway."

"Curses," she grinned, "foiled again." Gently, she took the pages from him and retrieved her violin. Erik watched her as she gracefully took it from its case and set the music on a wooden stand. After expertly tuning her violin, she set the bow over the gold stings and took a deep breath. The first note was lingering and deep, leading into a gentle melody that vibrated into the air. He listened to discover if he'd heard it before. His breath was arrested when he heard her lovely voice rise into a hum. Her eyes were softly lowered, drinking in the music. Her dark lips parted as she drew in a breath before her voice lifted in song.

_The tree is lit, the fire burns  
The snow is falling but you're keeping my heart warm  
The music plays, the candles glow  
And as you look at me I've got to let you know_

_It's Christmas time my darling  
And all I can say  
Is I'll love you  
For only always_

Erik drew in an awed breath, his mind reveling in her voice and the meaning of her words. He hadn't heard this alto register of her voice very often. It was penetrating and soothing to hear as it moved through him like warm waves. She moved sinuously with the bow, her singing never distracting her from the music.

_Another year I'll have with you  
We'll grow together beyond all that we've been through  
This season holds a place in me  
Where there is always room to make new memories _

It's Christmas time my darling  
And all I can say  
Is I'll love you  
For only always

Elaine threw herself into the song. She rocked on her feet, loving the vibration beneath her cheek. This next part she knew by heart and she looked directly at Erik, her eyes meeting his with a physical thrilling sensation. He fell deeply into her eyes of gold and knew that he could never lose this wonderful creature.

_So kiss me now and hold me tight  
Beneath the mistletoe  
My dance with you is wonderful  
I love you more than you'll ever know _

As she turned back to the music, an interesting thought entered his mind that caused tears to spring to his eyes; she'd written this before their admission last night. Before there was any danger of either one losing the other, she had penned out her love for him. He sat back against the cushions and leaned his head back, letting her voice, her song,and her love wash over him, letting his tears fall peacefully down his face.

_It's Christmas time my darling  
And all I can say  
Is I'll love you  
For only always _

Drawing the bow along the final notes, she let her voice fade softly. At the close of her work, she relaxed and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She never ceased to give her all in a performance. "Well…what do you think?" she asked, pressing her hand to her heaving breasts. A sob escaped Erik's throat and she snapped her eyes to him. To her dismay, tears streamed down his face. Her violin forgotten on a side table, rushed to him and encased his face in her hands. "Erik, are you alright? No, my love, don't cry. This is a night of joy."

In spite of his tears, a happy smile broke onto his lips and he wrapped his hands around her waist. Gently, he encouraged her to stand, as he lowered himself until he was kneeling before her. "Elaine...sweet angel…the song was very beautiful. Amazing, my love. And please, don't worry. These are not tears of sadness. I know all about those." His mind was racing along with his heart, but he kept his voice calm. "Those were the only tears I ever cried before I met you. My life was a wasted one of hate, fear and pain. But you, Elaine, you saved me. You rescued my heart from the solitude I thought was so good. Thanks to you, I can face the world again."

He paused and slipped his hand into his coat pocket. "And I would love nothing more than to face it with you by my side." He drew out a small black box and held it out to her. Savoring every moment he could, he lifted the top. Inside, nestled in plush, crimson velvet laid a tiny gold ring with a modest, scintillating diamond set in its center. Elaine suddenly found it nearly impossible to breathe. Erik plucked the ring out of its setting and discarded the box. His hands trembling, he held it up as an offering to her. "Elaine," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "Will you make me whole? Will you marry me?"

Elaine drew in a long breath as awe washed over her. She stared at the shimmer in Erik's mismatched eyes then at the gift he offered her. Then she thought of what the true gift would be: to share her life with him, to wake up every morning in his arms.

Slowly, a smile more beautiful than any other he'd seen spread over her full red lips. Erik's eyes widened with hope. "Yes, Erik. I would love to marry you."

Time stood still as the two of them communed with their eyes. At last, Erik's hand moved blindly to slip the little ring on her finger. He gaped at the sight of the ring glimmering on her little white hand. Suddenly, he looked up at her. "That…that just happened…didn't it?"

Elaine's eyes grew wet with tears of joy. "Yes it did."

"Now don't say it if…"

"I meant it Erik. Oh Erik, I love you."

Erik's heart thrilled. "Say that again," he said breathlessly.

"I love you. Now please stand up and kiss me."

He followed her request without a word. Rising quickly, he swept her into his embrace and pressed his lips to hers. Her hands stroked his face; the smooth and deformed became one to her as she returned his kiss with joyous passion. Erik nearly laughed against her mouth as he lifted her from the ground and spun her around and around. When they finally broke the kiss, Elaine wrapped her arms around his neck and laughed. Erik laughed as well as he finally set her back on her feet.

"Oh _ma chere_. This is a dream come true. Never in my life did I ever think I would propose to a beautiful woman, and she would say yes."

"I can't believe it," she whispered. "I'm going to be your wife. Your wife…oh Erik, hold me!" she laughed and leapt into his arms. He wasn't quite ready for her this time and they toppled backwards in a heap. She smiled sheepishly at his wry look. "Whoops…"

At this, Erik let out great peals of laughter and threw his arms around her, rocking her to and fro, as she giggled giddily. Their laughter died down and Erik tilted her face up to look into her eyes. A look of soft seriousness glowed in his eyes as he stroked her silky cheek.

"Before the New Year begins, I would like for us to be married Elaine. Is that too soon for you?"

"No, it's perfect."

"Are you certain you would not like more time?"

"No. I have a close friend, Meg, and her mother. They will make a fine wedding party. I understand that you know them. I'll send a letter to my father as well. I would like for him come and give me away."

Erik dropped his head. "Elaine…do you really think your father will give you away to _me_? We have never met."

"I've written him about you. Not, certain private details, but enough to let him know how much I love you," she smiled, returning a tender stroke to his malformed cheek. Erik nuzzled into her soft hand, luxuriating in the love radiating from her entire being. "And I believe we have waited quite long enough."

At the close of her words, Erik could no longer help himself. Circling his strong arms around her shoulders, he crushed her to his body in a fervent kiss. Elaine's passion responded to his and she returned the kiss by trailing her tongue along his soft lips. He moaned and parted his lips, allowing her to enter his mouth while caressing hers with his warm breath. His joy mixed with desire as he felt her warm curves beneath the supremely soft fabric and he felt a tightening in his loins. Gently and firmly, he pulled away and dropped his head, breathing deeply to control himself. Elaine, disappointed and worried at the breaking of the kiss, frowned and lifted his face up with a tender hand.

"What is it Erik?"

Erik smiled at her loving concern and brushed his fingers along her jaw. "It's nothing dearest. It is only…you are so…stirring. You affect me greatly Elaine. And I do not with to get carried away before our wedding."

"Anyone would understand why Erik. You've been physically deprived for so long."

He shook his head slowly. "But that is no excuse, and it certainly does not make it right. I have done so many sinful things in my life, and I will not deny the woman I love the glory of her wedding night."

Elaine's rose-red lips smiled with happiness and her heart swelled with affection for him. She leaned into his chest and laid her head on his shoulder. He smiled and embraced her, breathing in the spicy florals of her hair and skin. He felt something inside him warm in the wake of her love and silently told himself that this was no dream.

--

Three days later, Elaine walked the icy streets of Paris with a beaming smile on her lips. The wind blew chilly around her, but she smiled nonetheless. Her heart was so warm, she felt like nothing could chill her at all. It was a cold yet beautiful night. The moonlight on the ice and fresh snow gave everything a peaceful, bluish glow and high above her the diamond pinpricks of stars twinkled.

With a happy sigh, she gazed at her own twinkling star on her ring finger.

The day before, she'd gone to the Giry's to tell them of the news. Meg was a little frightened at first, but when she saw the approval from her mother and the love shining in Elaine's eyes, she warmed to the idea and became quite happy. The two of them planned to go into town in a day or so to find suitable dresses. The letter to her father had been sent, Madame Giry was taking care of securing a priest and Elaine couldn't be happier. Soon, she and Erik would be one together: husband and wife.

"I'm going to be a wife," she whispered to herself. She grinned, feeling much like a child again as she kicked a puff of snow into the air. She yelped as she slipped on the frozen sidewalk and fell straight into a huge pile of frigid fluff. "Oh, that was graceful! Be thankful you're not in the ballet chorus!" Laughing breathlessly, she got up and dusted herself off, glancing about to see if anyone had seen her.

What was that? She froze. Something had moved past the street lamp. When she unfroze, she took a deep breath of cold air and made her way along the icy path. She wasn't far from the opera house when the wind began to pick up, rolling huge violet clouds, fat with snow across the sky. As she drew nearer, she sensed another presence. As if to confirm her fears, she heard the crunch of icy footsteps echo faintly in the night. She drew her coat more tightly to her breast and picked up her pace as the snowflakes began to float down.

To her horror, the footsteps also quickened to match her pace. A cold needle of fear shot up her spine and she began to take longer strides, not daring to run on the slick ice. Her breaths were puffs of misty air in the growing cold. The footsteps grew louder as they approached her. Just before she reached the steps of the opera house, an icy hand shot out and closed around her wrist. She shrieked and spun around, lashing out with one little fist. She felt it connect and watched her assailant stumbled back with a grunt. Fury blazed in her stomach as her gaze met with a pair of frigid blue eyes that could only belong to one person.

"You!" She shouted. "How dare you! What do you think you're doing?"

"A lady would do well not to raise her voice," Marque Gallin answered icily.

"A piece of filth like you does not deserve ladylike treatment!" she spat, stopping to steal a glance at his hands. They both curled into an unnatural claw and two fingers on the right hand were gone. "Why Marque, what happened to your poor hands?" she cooed in mock pity and let out a cold laugh in the darkness. Gallin snarled and slapped her across the face. She moaned and clutched her cheek, her violin case falling into a snowdrift.

"You little tramp!" He yelled, rage twisting his voice into hideous tones. "I knew you had something to do with that 'accident'!"

Elaine turned to face him, her golden eyes blazing. Then, her lips curled into a chilly smile.

"Unfortunately, I had nothing to do with it. However, it would have been my pleasure to have been the one who removed you from the company!" She sneered and spit in his face, the saliva crackling in the freezing air.

"You BITCH! I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget!" He snarled and leapt onto her, knocking them both into a snowdrift. Elaine screamed as her back struck a sheet of ice and sent a stinging pain through her body. "Shut up!" He clamped his gnarled hand over her mouth, trying to silence her. "Shut up, stupid!" Frantically, she pushed his hand into her mouth and sank her teeth into it. He roared in pain and leapt up clutching his bleeding hand, cursing violently.

There was no way she could make it to the Rue Scribe now. Elaine wasted no time but snatched up her fallen violin and raced up the stairs. She threw the doors open and ran down the aisle. She could hear Gallin running after her and began screaming Erik's name at the top of her lungs, praying with all her heart that he could hear her.

As she ran up the stairs to the stage, she felt Gallin's hands grab hold of her dress. He yanked and nearly ripped off half of the skirt as she pulled away and fell sprawling to the floor. She scrambled to her feet and ran for the wings.

"Forget something, whore?"

Elaine stopped dead in her tracks and suddenly realized she didn't have her violin. She turned around and saw her rival on the stage, her violin dangling from his hand, the case discarded on the floor.

"Give it back!" she screamed rushing back to him. His face twisted and without a word, he slammed it onto the floor. Elaine wailed as her papa's precious violin shattered to fragments.

"Try playing now, bitch!" He sneered in bitter hatred and tossed it at her feet. Elaine fell to her knees and gazed in horror at the splinters of wood and pitifully dangling golden strings. Her dark head snapped up, absolute fury blazing in her eyes.

"You bloody bastard! I'll KILL you!"

Before he could react, she jumped on him and wrestled him to the ground, scratching and beating and screaming in rage. They rolled about on the floor until Gallin gained the upper hand freed one of his arms. He slapped her across the face, blood from his hand spraying in the air. She cried and blindly slammed the heel of her palm into his nose. Her attacker forgot her for a moment and he clapped his hands over his bloody nose. She jumped up and tried to run but her wet, ruined dress tangled under her feet and she fell to the ground, cracking her chin on the hardwood floor. Stars shot through her vision and her head rang. As she tried to get up, a heavy, cold boot kicked her squarely in the back. A scream left her mouth and the fight left her. She lay in a crumpled heap, her strength rapidly waning. As Gallin circled her, she tried to push herself up. "_Merde_," she muttered as she fell again.

"Such a foul mouth on such a lady," he smirked. She turned pain-filled, hateful eyes to him and groaned weakly. No emotion on his face, he kicked her in the gut. She heaved out a sobbing moan and fell on her back. His cold, stony eyes forgot their rage and swept over her supple body, the primal part of his brain appreciating her lush curves. Elaine opened her eyes, feeling a thick pain behind one of them and watched Marque helplessly. "Yet, seeing you like this, on your back, tattered like some tramp makes me wonder if you are a lady at all." He growled, his voice deepening with lust. One of his gnarled hands reached behind his back and drew out a long, thin dagger, its blade a hellish orange in the dimmed lamplight of the stage. Elaine whimpered and tried to shift away from him.

He descended on her, pushing her into the hardwood floor. "You know Elaine…I've hated you from the moment I met you." As he spoke, he swayed the blade slowly before her, and her eyes followed the oscillating motion, not daring to move or breathe in case he decided to use it. He watched the pure fear blooming in her eyes and smiled in satisfaction. He set the dagger off to the side and brought his hand to the side of her face, stroking it almost tenderly. She shuddered and whimpered, trying to move away from his wretched hand. "But, I've always found you to be…appealing…yes…" he purred and nuzzled his cheek against hers. She let out another helpless moan and he smothered her mouth with his palm. "I think I'll have a little fun with you before I kill you!"

At the close of his words, he grabbed her mother's coat and ripped it open, nearly exposing her breasts to him. The strength Elaine thought was gone welled up in her like a mountain and she brought her hands up to his face. Sinking her long nails into his flesh, she raked down viciously, ripping two nails to the quick in the process. The pain from his ravaged face seized him and he plastered his hands over the bloody furrows.

"ERIK!" She screamed, trying desperately to wriggle free of his weight. Gallin felt her gaining ground and forgot his face. He grabbed her shoulders and slammed her firmly to the floor. Pressing one arm over her chest to hold her, he reached down with his other hand into the large rip in her dress. "GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF!" She screamed, enraged and terrified, bucking her hips wildly as she tried to get her legs free. He grasped a handful of her lacy pantaloons and ripped them wide open. "ERIK!"

"So THAT'S his name!" Gallin growled, working his twisted fingers around her womanhood. "THAT'S who you've screamed for in the night, you little slut!" Elaine felt his repulsive fingers pushing against her maidenhead and screwed her eyes shut against the pain, scream-like sobs coming out of her mouth. "Oh come now, it's not so bad!" He pressed the proof of his lust against her stomach, his hatred-fueled hunger growing as he watched her crying. "I'll just finish with you, and the theater will blame it all on their so called 'phantom'!"

"They certainly will."

The icy, animal snarl froze the heat in Gallin's blood and he stilled all movement. Before he could even turn to see who had spoken, his air was cut off by a powerful hand. Elaine gasped in a loud breath as she felt the weight lifted from her battered body. She opened her tear-swollen eyes to see the most welcome of sights before her; Erik stood with his extended arm holding a dangling Marque Gallin who kicked his feet helplessly, his eyes bulging from a lack of oxygen. The unmasked side of Erik's face was twisted into a fiery look of absolute fury.

"Er-ik…"

Hearing her weak whisper, Erik tore his anger-filled eyes away from the bastard and looked at Elaine. She was bruised, bloody and terrified, her little body shivering from fear and cold. Slowly he looked back at the man he held aloft with one hand. The other held Gallin's discarded dagger. "You deserve to be tortured for days you little bastard." He whispered with cold fire in his normally sonorous voice. "I should kill you slowly. But I haven't the time." Without another word, he plunged the blade into his victim's stomach and jerked it downward towards the floor. He released the man's neck and let him fall wailing in agony as his innards poured free of his split body. He writhed around screaming, his body spasming, sending jets of blood from his wound.

The intensity of violence and the swirling memories of what had happened overwhelmed Elaine and she passed out, Erik's name on her breath. Erik dropped to his knees and gathered her gently into his arms, holding her tightly but carefully. He rose to his feet and began walking towards her dressing room. Erik pressed the concealed switch and opened the mirror, tears filling his eyes as he stepped through with his precious load. "Oh, my love…I'm so sorry…" he murmured as he carried her down the winding corridors.

--

On the stage, in his final scene, Gallin's life ebbed away, his pain-racked thoughts only of the demonic figure who took his life from him. It was all _her_ fault…_her_ fault…her fault…her…

…

--

Spooky note to end on I know, but I think I made Erik too nice there…don't you agree : I know you're all waiting with baited breath to see what happens next! So I'll try to fix up the last few chapters quickly. Review please!


	9. To all my loyal readers

To all of my loyal readers:

I regret to inform you that I will be taking an indefinite break from my fanfictions. I am currently working on my novel and I need to focus all of my attention on it. I will leave my stories up for you to read because I really do appreciate all of your kind comments and endless encouragement. You all rock!

Truly, I remain,

Dawn Moon


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